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THE 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A 



LONG LIFE 




)9 



KM I 

JEREMIAHlBELL ieter. 



WITH INTRODUCTION BY J. L. M. CURRY, I.L.D. 



RICHMOND, VA.: 

THE RELIGIOUS HERALD CO. 

1891. 



1165 

A 




\J 







Table of Contents. 



INTRODUCTION— J. L. M. CURRY, LL.D. 

PREFACE. 

Page 
Chapter I — The Schools 3 

School-house architecture — Primitive equipment — Methods of dis- 
cipline — Lewis Parker — The Bedford boys. 

Chapter II — School Amusements . . 9 

Popular sports — Turning out the schoolmaster — "School-butter." 

Chapter III — The State op Society 14 

Drinking customs — Muster days— Hunting and shooting — Locks 
unknown. 

Chapter IV — The State of Society (Continued) 19 

Churches and Sunday-schools — The preaching of the day — Polem- 
ics — The "holy tone." 

Chapter V — Notable Ministers 24 

Lorenzo Dow— Jeremiah Minter — Conrad Speece. 

Chapter VI — The Strawberry Association 29 

William Duncan—John Anthony — John King— John W. Kelly. 

Chapter VII — Temperance 33 

Formation of the Virginia Temperance Society. 

Chapter VIII— The Great Revival 38 

The summer of 1821 — The revival in Bedford and contiguous coun- 
ties — Thousands converted. 

Chapter IX — My Experience . 43 

First prayer — The burden of sin. 

Chapter X — My Experience (Continued) . . 47 

Meeting with Daniel Witt — The great question decided — Assailed by 
a painful temptation, 



iv TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

Page 
Chapter XI — My Experience (Continued) 54 

Further struggles towards the light — Finding rest. 

Chapter XII — My Entrance Into the Ministry 57 

Baptized by Elder William Harris — First religious address — Early 
sermons — Anxiety as to divine call. 

Chapter XIII — My Early Labors in the Ministry 62 

"Two Bedford plow-boys" — Breaching tour through Franklin and 
neighboring counties. 

Chapter XIV — Slavery 67 

Early unfavorable impressions — Discussion in the convention of 
1829-'30— The pamphlet of Dr. Stringfellow. 

Chapter XV — Odds and Ends 72 

A rain theor\^ — The mystery of horse-shoeing — Feter Burns. 

Chapter XVI— Odds and Ends (Continued) 76 

A spelling match — False economy — The war of 1812. 

Chapter XVII — Asceticism 82 

Strictness of the early Methodists — Baptist views — Sinfulness of 
laughing. 

Chapter XVIII — My Early Associates in the Ministry 87 

William Harris — William Eeftwich. 

Chapter XIX— My Early Associates in the Ministry (Continued) . 92 
William Davis — His discussion with Mr. Hunter. 

Chapter XX — My Early Associates in the Ministry (Continued) . 97 
John S. Lee — Moses Greer— Joshua Burnett. 

Chapter XXI — Prevalent Superstitions 102 

Supposed witchcraft of Mrs. Gatson — The author sees a ghost — 
Simon Bailey's testimony. 

Chapter XXII — The Organization of the Baptist General Asso- 
ciation of Virginia 107 

First view of Richmond — Meeting in the Second church — Sermons 
by various brethren — An affecting thought — A comical incident. 

Chapter XXIII — A Missionary Tour 113 

Visit to the New River Association — Through the southwestern 
counties. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. v 

Page 
Chapter XXIV — My Residence in Sussex County 118 

At the home of Elder Chambliss — Ordination at High Hills. 

Chapter XXV— The Portsmouth Association 122 

First Steamboat voyage — Potter's field — Dr. Schoolfield's tender 
conscience. 

Chapter XXVI — A Missionary Meeting in Richmond 128 

Staiighton and Dagg. 

Chapter XXVII — Alexander Campbell 133 

His sermons at Upper Essex and Bruington — An estimate of his 
talents and character. 

Chapter XXVIII — My Sojourn in Campbell County. 139 

At the Appomattox Association — Atmer W. Clopton. 

Chapter XXIX — The Northern Neck 143 

Addison Hall — Deacon Dunaway — Stranghan and Lunsford — Mo- 
rattico church. 

Chapter XXX — Changes in the Northern Neck . 148 

Sued for slander — Called to the pastorate of the First church, Rich- 
mond. 

Chapter XXXI — Northern Neck Camp-Meetings 153 

Meeting at Ball's Woods — A young flood — Conversion of John Grin- 
stead. 

Chapter XXXII — Northern Neck Camp-Meetings (Continued). . . 159 

A great religious awakening — Visits of Drs.Reed and Matheson, of 
England. 

Chapter XXXIII — A Voyage to Baltimore 163 

Experience at Peale's Museum — Elders Findlay and Ries — A ven- 
. triloquist. 

Chapter XXXIV — Virginia State Convention of 1829-'30 169 

Some of its famous men and measures — Madison, Monroe, Mar- 
shall, Tazewell, Giles, Randolph, Barbour, and others. 

Chapter XXXV — Memorable Events 173 

The Southampton insurrection — The cholera in 1832. 

Chapter XXXVI— The Baptist Triennial Convention 178 

Visit to New York — Recollections of Dr. \Ya3dand and others. 



. 



vi TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

Page 
Chapter XXXVII — The Baptist Triennial Convention (Continued)' 183 

Its session in Richmond in 1835 — Sermons by distinguished preach- 
ers—The last harmonious meeting of this great body. 

Chapter XXXVIII— Northern Neck Deacons 188 

Rawleigh Dunaway and Thomas S. Sydnor. 

Chapter XXXIX — Northern Neck Deacons (Continued) 193 

Epa. Norris. His experience with the British soldiers in the war of 
1812. His views as to wearing collars, etc. 

Chapter XL — Northern Neck Incidents 199 

Crossing the Rappahannock — A fall of plaster at White chapel — 
Conversion of Dr. I^irk. 

Chapter XDI — Residence in Richmond 204 

A well-organized church — A deep personal bereavement — Removal 
to St. Louis. 

Chapter XLJI — The Organization "of the First African Church 

in Richmond 207 

Serious difficulties — Successful pastorate of Dr. Ryland — Dr. Plum- 
er's noble offer. 

Chapter XLIII — The War on the Theatre 214 

Dr. Plumer's attack, and the manager's retaliation. 

Chapter XLJV — Richmond College '. . . 219 

Formation of the Virginia Baptist Education Society — The Mania 
for manual labor schools — Removal of the college to "Columbia," 
its present site. 

Chapter XLV — Popular Delusions . . . 224 

The Morus multicaulis craze — The gold mania. 

Chapter XLVI-The Division of the Triennial Convention .... 229 

Meeting in Philadelphia— An exciting scene — Meeting of the General 
Board in Providence. 

Chapter XI/VTI— The Formation of the Southern Baptist Con- 
vention 234 

Journey to Augusta — A remarkable body of Southern Baptists. 

Chapter XEVIII— A Great Revival 238 

Preaching of Elder Robords— Four hundred added to the churches- 
Rev. Duncan R. Campbell, D. D, 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. vn 

Page 
Chapter XLIX — A Day with the United States Senate ...... 243 

Sketches of Clay, Calhoun, Webster, Benton, Rives, and Preston. 

Chapter L — Useful Inventions 248 

The steamboat — Daguerreotypes— Lucifer matches— Railroads-The 
Telegraph. 



Chapter LI— A Trip to the West 253 

A selfish traveller — Up the Illinois river during a flood — At Niagara 
Falls. 

Chapter LII — A Trip to Florida 258 

Among the invalids — A storm at sea. 

Chapter LIII — Knapp's Visit to Richmond 263 

His "side remarks" on slavery — Estimate of his talents and char- 
acter — Uncle Davy's coat of many colors. 

Chapter LIV — Camp-Meeting Scenes 268 

A Pentecostal season — In Culpeper and Caroline. 

Chapter LV — The Great Masonic Excitement 273 

The memorable Morgan incident — The anti-Masons nominate Mr. 
Wirt for the Presidency. 

Chapter LVI — Distinguished Ministers 278 

Andrew Broaddus as a reader of hymns — His brilliant imagination 
and graceful manner — Hon. R. M. T. Hunter's estimate of him. 

Chapter LVII— Rev. John Kerr 284 

Sketch of his life— Broaddus and Kerr compared. 

Chapter LVIII — Removal to St. Louis 290 

A heterogeneous congregation — Sending out colonies — A few re- 
marks. 

Chapter LIX — Spiritism 295 

A rather remarkable seance — Moral bearing of "spiritualistic" phe- 
nomena. 

Chapter LX — A Perilous Journey 300 

Fleeing from cholera — A doleful night among the sufferers. 



vin TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

Page 
Chapter LXI— Fashions 304 

The "breeches" of other days— Survival of the high-crowned hat — 
Feminine follies — The "navarino" bonnet and the "Grecian bend." 

Chapter LXII— Changes for the Better , 310 

Improvement in the ministry — Better meeting-houses — More order- 
ly congregations. 

Chapter LXIII — Changes for the Worse . 315 

Diminished unction and pathos in the pulpit — Less fervency in sa- 
cred song — Baptists less carefully indoctrinated. 

Chapter LXIV— The Estimate of Life. . 320 

The blessed buoyancy of youth — Sobriet\- of age— The brighter 
side — The foundation of hope. 



INTRODUCTION 



J. L. M.CURRY, LL.D. 



SO rapid is the progress of events in this new world of ours, so 
marked are the changes which occur in religious, social, political, 
and economic forces ' ' through nearly three quarters of a century, ' ' a 
life of a man, active and influential in any department of affairs, covers 
a period not so much spanned by years as by transactions which in 
older countries and civilizations would have required centuries. The 
centre of our population moves westward every decade with a great 
stride, notwithstanding the populous cities on or near the Atlantic 
coast. Inventions multiply and affect industries and modes of living 
beyond what romances like Utopia would include among the fabulous. 
When Dr. Jeter was born there were no railways, no steamboats, no 
phonographs, no magnificent system of telegraphy and telephony, no 
McCormick reapers, no lucifer matches, no breech-loading guns, no 
dynamite. 

These reminiscences of a thoughtful and intelligent observer em- 
brace years than which, the advent of the Christ excepted, no equal 
number in the past are of more thrilling interest. The recollections, 
narrated with such simple frankness and ingenuousness, give one a 
more distinct portraiture of the "men and events" and the times than 
would the most minute recital of inventions and improvements. They 
are the more fascinating and instructive when we recall the positions 
the writer filled and the personal characteristics which give piquancy 
and value to what he did and observed. With varied experience, an 
inquisitive mind, an acute intellect, accurate memory, honesty of in- 
vestigation and judgment, frankness of utterance, ambition to excel, 
freedom from conceit or unworthy prejudice, transparency of char- 
acter, hopefulness and buoyancy undimmed by years, what he has 



x INTRODUCTION. 

written of contemporary people and things has special value as being 
instructive literature and a contribution to history. 

Born and bred in the rural districts, living on a farm among the 
common people, with only such religious and educational advantages 
as such environments afforded, and whatever of benefit, and there is 
much, that comes from being brought up in the country— these things 
affected his personal and mental habits through his entire life, and 
gave him some of those peculiarities which continually "cropped out" 
in his writings and addresses and added to his power and influence. 

1. In early manhood he became an evangelist, or missionary, and 
this itineracy brought him into association with many phases of human 
character. His own religious experience was interwoven in his creed 
and preaching and helped to give him access to the masses and in- 
fluence in winning them to Christ. As a sermonizer he was analytical, 
logical, expository, and instructive. In preaching he was sometimes 
borne away by strong feeling and carried his hearers into the higher 
realms of emotion and imagination. .For years he was a bishop of 
large city churches and exerted extraordinary influence in molding the 
opinions, forming the character, and shaping the conduct of his flocks. 

2. He was a wise counsellor. His pastoral duties called this faculty 
into frequent exercise. His commanding ability and the universal re- 
spect in which his denomination held him made his advice to be much 
sought after. Nothing more delighted him than to reconcile differ- 
ences, heal alienations, and compose individual and ecclesiastical 
strifes. As a member of the Board of Trustees of Richmond College, 
of the Female Institute, of the Southern Baptist Theological Semi- 
nary, and of the Board of Foreign Missions, and as a member of our 
national and semi-national denominational organizations, he was un- 
selfish, punctual, sagacious, and wise, and when he spoke there was 
generally acquiescence in his views. He was not, however, arbitrary, 
dictatorial, or imperious. Firm and conscientious in his own convic- 
tions, he commended manliness and independence in others. With a 
prescient mind, ever on the outlook for good, he would weigh and 
cheerfully accept and adopt the suggestions of others. The writer of 
this Introduction was present once when, with his fruitful mind and 
anxiety to do good, he inquired of a Richmond lady what profitable 



INTRODUCTION. xi 

-direction, outside of direct church work, Baptist beneficence might 
take. She, with much earnestness, recommended a Home for Aged 
Women. The matter was discussed for some time, and on leaving he 
said he would think more about the suggestion. A few days after- 
wards he returned thoroughly satisfied and full of enthusiasm, and 
thus originated the institution which enlists sympathies and energies 
of so many ladies and is noiselessly doing such widening good. 

3. Dr. Jeter was most widely known as an editor, and while acting 
as such he prepared for his paper these Recollections. There were 
few current Biblical, theological, or religious questions which he had 
not carefully thought out, and from a full mind, a fountain of wisdom, 
came those writings which made him an oracle in the Baptist Israel. 
At first his editorials, lucidly and logically written, were in form and 
make-up somewhat sermonic, but with practice he acquired facility of 
newspaper composition, rarely rewriting, and a style which is a model 
of pure and vigorous English. He carried into the editorial sanctum 
the prayerfulness, conscientiousness, loyalty to truth, zeal to do good, 
which had controlled him in the pulpit. He made the Religious 
Herald a great newspaper, an "institution" of great resources and 
potential influence. What he wrote, as whatiie preached, was for the 
highest benefit of those who received. In every vocation his purpose 
was to do good, and as the result, in part, of his exalted aim the jour- 
nal attained its attractiveness and usefulness. He stamped upon it his 
own individuality. He rose above and despised all meannesses, all 
strifes for mere victory, all effort to win success by means that were 
not lofty, elevating, and in accordance with the spirit of the gospel. 
He was no seeker after popularity, never modified his opinions for 
sectional, sectarian, or sinister ends, and was actuated in patriotism 
and religion by a broad, generous catholicity. 



The Recollections of a Long Life. 



FOR years past, from time to time, and especially of late, 
I have been urged by brethren whose judgment I re- 
spect to write out and publish my reminiscences of men and 
events, now extending through nearly three-quarters of a cen- 
tury. Several causes have hitherto prevented my compliance 
with the request. Some of these I will briefly mention. The 
unavoidable egotism, the incessant repetition of the great I, or 
the frequent circumlocutions to shun its use, in the execution 
of the task, is not according to my taste, and would probably 
be more offensive to the taste of the reader than it is to miae. 
My life having been passed, much of it, in obscurity, and but 
little of it among the men and the scenes which go to make up 
the world's history, I feared that my recollections, even if 
vividly detailed, would seem to cultured and well-informed 
minds as mere trifles. Besides, having kept no journal of my 
life, and having access to few sources by which my memory 
might be refreshed, it is to be apprehended that my reminis- 
cences would be meagre, and, in some particulars, inaccurate. 
I have concluded, however, after much consideration, to com- 
ply with the request of my friends, and record the principal 
recollections of my checkered life. Should they fail to interest 
the public, I shall, at least, have the consolation of knowing 
that I followed the counsel of persons deemed judicious. 

It is not my purpose to write an autobiography, though in 
many of the events and scenes to be recorded I bore a part 



2 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

more or less conspicuous, which it would be mere affectation 
to attempt to conceal. The discerning reader will give me 
credit for such a measure of modesty as may be indicated by 
the general style and spirit of the articles. I may add, it is 
not my purpose to compose a connected detail of events. This 
would be impracticable from memory; and tedious and useless, 
even if practicable. I shall endeavor to give faithfully my 
recollections of notable persons, stirring events, and impressive 
scenes, including matters social, literary, and political, but 
chiefly religious, with little regard to chronological order. 

In carrying out my plan, it will be necessary to repeat much 
that, in sermons, memoirs, editorials, and the like, has hereto- 
fore been published. Indeed, having been so long accustomed 
to the use of the pen, it is quite impossible for me to know, in 
many cases, whether remembered incidents have been pub- 
lished, and, if so, in what connection and with what minute- 
ness of detail. 

I must invoke the candor of the reader, both as to matters 
of taste and of fact. There is no absolute standard of taste. 
I can only promise that I will record nothing which, in my 
view, does not comport with the design and dignity of my 
articles. As to matters of fact, I can only pledge my veracity. 
I am painfully conscious that, after the lapse of more than 
three-quarters of a century, my memory is far from being in- 
fallible. I am quite sure that, should my faculties be preserved, 
the material statements will be true, even if the minute details 
should in some cases be-inaccurate. 



I. 

THE SCHOOLS. 

BEDFORD is a Virginia county, lying between the James 
and Staunton rivers, and at the foot of the Blue Ridge. 
The celebrated Otter Peaks are on the northwestern border 
of the county. It is distinguished for the number, ability, and 
usefulness of the ministers of the leading evangelical denomi- 
nations who have been reared within its limits. At the house 
of my maternal grandfather, Jeremiah Hatcher, and in full 
view of the towering mountains, my eyes first saw the light. 
My early recollections relate chiefly to events and scenes in 
this old and respectable county. 

I pass over many of my childhood memories, which, how- 
ever interesting they might be to the young, are hardly com- 
patible with the design and gravity of my articles. It may be 
proper, however, to notice the educational advantages enjoyed 
in the county, especially that part of it in which I was reared, 
the Fork of Otter, in the days of my boyhood. The school- 
houses were of a primitive style of achitecture, bearing a very 
slight resemblance to the Doric, Grecian, or Roman order. 
They were constructed of logs, notched at the corners, daubed 
with clay, covered with boards, kept in their position by weighty 
poles laid across them, and lighted, not by glass, but through 
an aperture between the logs, at a convenient height, which 
might be closed for comfort by a plank suspended above it on 
leathern hinges. They had wide chimneys. Those who have 
seen them need no description of them, and to those who 
have not seen them, no description could impart any just con- 
ception of them. These houses were furnished with benches, 
without backs, on each of which a dozen or more pupils might 
sit in close contact. A chair and a table for the teacher, with 
one or more good rods, completed the furniture of the school- 
room. 



4 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

The teachers were in admirable correspondence with their 
school-houses. Persons too lazy to work, and unfit for other 
profitable employments, were usually engaged as pedagogues. 
School-books were scarce, but of divers kinds. Dilworth's 
spelling-book had gone out of print, but many copies of it were 
in existence, having been used and preserved by the parents, 
and possibly the grand-parents, of the pupils. Highly favored 
were the children who owned Webster's spelling-book, then 
just coming into use. For reading, every pupil brought to the 
school such book or books as were found in his family — they 
might be the Columbian Orator, Scott's Lessons, the Arabian 
Nights, Robinson Crusoe, the Bible or fragments of it, or any- 
thing else in print, historical or fictitious, didactic or heroic, 
solemn or amusing. This diversity in school-books was not so 
inconvenient as a modern teacher might suppose. Schools 
were not divided into classes, but every pupil ' ' said ' ' or read 
liis own lesson. A slate and pencil, with paper and ink for the 
advanced students, completed the outfit for an education in the 
" Old-Field Schools." In most of them neither a dictionary, 
a grammar, nor an arithmetic could be found. 

This outfit, meagre as it was, was quite equal to the demands 
of the curriculum, comprehending only reading, writing, and 
ciphering as "far as the rule of three." This last art was 
taught by means of a manuscript book belonging to the teacher, 
in which the arithmetical questions were not only propounded, 
but the process of their solution was fully recorded in figures. 
From this source the pupils received their sums, and to this 
standard it was required that their answers should conform. 
Boys, after toiling days or weeks over a sum in long division, 
would go up to the teacher to report their answers, and to hear 
the appalling words : ' 'Not right. ' ' They would then have to 
go over the tedious and perplexing calculation, with the 
probability of arriving at a similar result. One poor fellow 
labored three months at a single sum. 

The rod bore an important part in the discipline of these 
primitive schools. Fortunately or unfortunately, the forests 
furnished switches which, for toughness and punitive power, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 5 

threw into the shade the far-famed birchen rod. The virtues 
of the hickory were well understood by all the disciplinarians of 
the school-room, and its penal application was held in extreme 
horror by all the unruly urchins of the region. It was em- 
ployed with more or less freedom and severity, according to 
the temper and views of the pedagogue. Some irascible 
teachers used it, occasionally, at least, with unquestionable 
cruelty; while others employed it to terrify rather than punish. 
Castigation was inflicted usually by retail; but in some cases by 
wholesale. One teacher frequently flogged his pupils by the 
bench. Ten or a dozen were called up at once, and each 
received his share of the whipping. The punishment was not 
severe. While those at the head of the line were receiving 
their stripes, those at the other end were sniggering, and by 
the time the infliction was ended all were in a glee. 

It is time to inquire after the attainments of the pupils in 
these plain, rural schools. Of course, they did not learn much. 
If most of the teachers had ever heard of accent or emphasis, 
they furnished to their scholars no proof of their knowledge. 
Of punctuation, they had some vague conception. He was 
deemed the greatest proficient in reading who could read the 
fastest. The teacher would often call out to the pupil, reading 
with breathless velocity: " Mind your stops ! " and the teach- 
ing in punctuation was limited to this stern command. Spell- 
ing was the only branch of learning cultivated successfully in 
these schools. The pupils spelled in classes, the best spellers 
ascending to the head and the worst descending to the foot 
of the class. By this means an emulation was excited among 
them, which made them quite ready in spelling the words 
found in their meagre school vocabulary. 

All the schools in the county were not alike. A grammar 
school was taught in the neighborhood of Liberty, the metrop- 
olis of the county, by a Mr. Flood, which had quite a local 
reputation for the thoroughness of its instruction. In this 
school my lamented friend, the late Dr. D. Witt, had the good 
fortune to be taught. Considerable improvement was made 
during my school days in the quality of the teaching in the 



'6 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

schools. In some cases, what was lacked in merit was made 
up in pretension. One teacher proposed to give instruction, 
not only in the common branches of learning, but in English 
grammar, and in "the arts and sciences'' as well. As his 
capacity for instruction in these branches was not in requisition 
in the school, I never knew, and cannot now conjecture, what 
"arts and sciences" he proposed to teach. I enjoyed the 
advantage of his instruction in grammar. I was taught to 
commit the large print in Murray's grammar to memory — 
from which attainment I afterwards derived great benefit; but 
if the teacher ever uttered a sentence which gave any intima- 
tion of his acquaintance with the design of grammar, I have no 
recollection of it, and think that if he had, I should remember it. 

To one of my teachers, Lewis Parker, I was under great 
obligation. He was a poor young man reared in the county. 
His opportunities for acquiring an education had been meagre, 
and his literary attainments were small; but he was conscious 
of his deficiency in learning, thirsted for knowledge, and 
labored earnestly to instruct his pupils. He had Walker's 
Pronouncing Dictionary in his school, and paid attention to 
accent, emphasis, and punctuation in his instruction. I was 
greatly indebted to him for his tuition, and have long lamented 
that his early death prevented me from making this acknowl- 
edgment to him. 

4 ' There is no royal road to learning." Certainly no such 
road led through the Bedford schools in my boyhood days. 
We sat on no cushioned seats, handled no gilt-bound volumes, 
received no tempting premiums, and feasted on no dainty 
luncheons. Going to school was no holiday procession, but a 
stern reality. Many of the pupils walked three or four miles, 
over stony paths, barefooted, to reach the schools. In winter 
the attendance was larger than in the summer, because more 
boys could then be spared from the labors of the farm. The 
worse the day the larger the school, as the greater number of 
children were released from home services. The pupils had in- 
variably to cut in the forests, and bear on their shoulders, the 
fuel by which their school-rooms were warmed. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 7 

This system of education had its advantages. 

" Its studies turned no student pale, 
But took the eel of science by the tail." 

If it did not make scholars, it made vigorous, self-reliant 
men and women. In those days and in that region neuralgia 
had never been heard of. The girls and boys knew what hun- 
ger meant, but were strangers to dyspepsia. They had mus- 
cles, if they had not refinement. They had brains, too — 
healthy, well developed brains ; and though, in general, there 
was not much in them, they were capable of thinking and of 
indefinite improvement. 

Nor was this all. The art of reading lies at the foundation 
of all learning. The man who can read has access to all the 
treasures of history, science, and philosophy; can revel amid 
all the charms of fiction and poetry, and can master all the 
intricacies of statesmanship and all the secrets of professional 
knowledge. His learning must be acquired with greater toil 
and with slower progress than if he had received early and 
thorough educational training, but when he reaches it he may 
have it all the more perfectly at his command because of the 
perplexities through which he acquired it. 

Not all the Bedford boys of the olden time became distin- 
guished. In the best taught and best regulated schools only 
a small proportion of the pupils become scholars or prominent 
in life. Quite a fair number of the youth trained in these ill 
supplied and ill taught country schools became distinguished, 
if not for their learning, at least for their good sense, their 
practical wisdom, and their usefulness. Some with their meagre 
educational advantages, through long years, struggled up the 
rugged hill of knowledge to no mean elevation. Others found 
in contiguous regions means of intellectual improvement denied 
to them in their native county. 

The lesson taught by this article is, that the young need not 
be discouraged because their means for early education are 
poor. If they have brains, industry, perseverance, a determi- 
nation to avail themselves of every opportunity for self-im- 



8 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

provement, the capacity for reading their mother tongue, so 
freighted with the choicest treasures of knowledge, opens to 
them the possibility of a career alike honorable to themselves 
and useful to society. Let them aim high, labor hard, esteem 
nothing done while aught remains to be done, seek to please 
God, and they will worthily fulfill their destiny. 



II. 

SCHOOL AMUSEMENTS. 

THE love of amusements is a human instinct, ineradicable,, 
irrepressible, and universal. It was certainly in full activ- 
ity among the boys and girls of Bedford more than sixty years 
ago. It culminated among them in the hour called, in all the 
schools, ' ' Play-time. ' ' It was the season appropriated to 
lunch, but chiefly to sports. The pupil might love his books, 
but far more he loved the hour for his amusements; he might 
eat his lunch with a sharp relish, but he had a much keener 
appetite for the sports of the play-hour. All the scholars 
looked forward with thrilling interest to the time when the 
shadow of the sun on the door-sill of the school-house indi- 
cated the arrival of meridian. All ears were then attentive to 
hear the words by which the commencement of the joyous 
"Play-time" was invariably announced by the schoolmaster: 
' ' Lay by your books. ' ' 

That sentence instantly changed the school-room into a 
babel. Books, slates, pens and paper were cast aside, and the 
demon of uproar seemed to be unchained. The homely lunch 
was speedily disposed of, and all were ready for the desired 
amusements. The girls betook themselves to the shady bowers 
and all the mimic arts of housekeeping. The sports of the 
boys took a wider range. The favorite amusements of the time 
were marbles, cat, base-ball, prisoner's base, steal-goods, and 
the like. The popular athletic sports were running, wrestling, 
jumping, chasing the fox, and boxing, an exercise that some- 
times caused more pain than pleasure. Some of the lads at- 
tained to great expertness in these plays. I remember one who 
was an incomparable dodger. The most skillful thrower might 
stand close by him, and casting a ball at him with the greatest 
care and force, would be more likely to miss than to hit him. 
The amusements were brought to a close by some boy, of 



10 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

strong lungs, commissioned by the master to cry at the top 
of his voice: " Come to books ! " 

The sports of the school were not limited to play-time. The 
turning out of the master, as it was called, was an institution 
in all the schools. It occurred on this wise: On the approach 
of a holiday, the larger boys, acting in concert, would find an 
opportunity, when the master was out of the house, to shut 
the door, and refuse to open it until he consented to grant them 
the desired holiday — a request which, with some show of re- 
sistance and indignation, he was usually glad to concede. 
Sometimes the scholars, persuaded of their own power, would 
seize the teacher, drag him out of the house, and force him to 
accede to their demand. 

There was great diversity in the manner and circumstances 
of turning out the schoolmaster. To give the reader a just 
conception of what is now, I suppose, a lost institution, I will 
relate a case that occurred under my notice. The school was 
large, and many of the scholars had reached manhood. The 
plan of the expulsion was duly considered and carefully laid. 
At the appointed hour, the pupils all being in the school-room, 
and the master being without, the door was shut and duly 
barricaded. He soon approached and demanded admission. 
The demand was refused, except on condition that he should 
give the required holiday. Unfortunately for the garrison, 
the teacher, having the key, was master of the situation. He 
immediately locked the door, put the key in his pocket, gave 
notice that he would open the school at the usual hour the next 
morning, and walked away as if he were going home. This 
manoeuvre frightened the children. The prospect of being 
kept from their homes all night caused them to cry piteously. 
The leaders of the enterprise had been fairly caught in their 
own trap. They were prisoners, and left to suffer the conse- 
quences of their indiscretion. In the extremity a council was 
called and a method of escape was adopted. Benches, chairs, 
tables, and whatever else would answer the purpose, were 
heaped together in the centre of the room, making an elevated 
platform. On this stood a tall, slender, gawky young man, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 11 

who, by lifting up his long arms, could reach the roof of the 
school-house. Without much difficulty the loosely-laid boards 
were opened wide enough to admit the egress of the hero. It 
was not an easy feat to perform. Reaching, however, with his 
extended arms the aperture, and seizing with his hands the 
boards on each side of it, by a vigorous effort he elevated his 
head slightly above the roof. At this moment, the master, 
having watched the proceedings within, returned to the com- 
bat. Having a long pole, with its brush upon it, he brought 
it down with a sweep on the head of the escaping prisoner, 
compelling him to draw it under the roof for safety. It would 
be tedious and unnecessary to relate how the leader became 
desperate, had a finger-nail knocked off, used language that 
ill befitted his lips, and which it is to be hoped he never re- 
peated, made his escape from his confinement, seized the mas- 
ter, had a personal struggle, in which he was thrown to the 
earth, but finally succeeded in securing a holiday, which the 
master was quite as anxious to grant as the school was to 
receive. 

Of the history of this custom I have no knowledge. When, 
where, or how it originated, or to what extent it prevailed, I 
cannot even conjecture. It was a foolish practice. The better 
class of teachers and the more intelligent patrons of the schools 
disapproved it and sought to prevent it; but it had descended 
from a past generation, and was strongly entrenched in the 
views, tastes, and traditions of the people. 

Another custom, common in that day and region, deserves 
notice. It was called "school-butter." The term was ex- 
pressive of ridicule and contempt. A daring boy or young 
man, in passing a school, would cry, at the top of his voice, 
" School-butter ! school-butter ! " and repeat the word as long 
as his voice could be heard by the school. The insult could 
not be endured for a moment. Instantly books, slates, every- 
thing — with the consent, or at least connivance, of the teacher — 
were thrown aside, and all the boys of an age to avenge the 
insult started in pursuit of the offender. If he was on a fleet 
horse, and duly aware of his peril, he might easily make his 



12 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

escape; but if he was on foot, or loitered in his way, he was 
quite likely to be arrested. The enraged boys pursued him on 
nimble feet, with untiring perseverance, availing themselves 
of every nigh way — running through fields, climbing fences, 
and seeking at every lane and defile and turn in the road to 
head and capture the offender. They would Continue their 
pursuit for miles and hours, and never abandon it until all hope 
of his arrest was gone. Woe to the unlucky wight who, with 
the guilt of crying ' ' School-butter ! ' ' fresh upon his head, was 
caught by the insulted and enraged boys. No pack of hungry 
hounds ever more fiercely attacked a wounded stag at bay 
than did the infuriated lads pounce upon the hapless insulter 
of their school. He was in rough hands, and his judges, who 
both made and executed the law, were far from being either 
cool or considerate. His punishment might be greatly modi- 
fied by his confessions, entreaties, and promises of future good 
behavior, and by the lenity of the leading boys engaged in 
the affair; but punishment, more or less severe, was inevitable. 
The usual mode of its infliction was by compelling the criminal 
to run the "gauntlet," as it was called, without lexicographical 
authority. The boys, armed with well-selected rods cut from 
the forest, arranged themselves in two lines, facing each other, 
separated by a short space. The culprit was required to run 
between these lines, and each boy was expected to inflict on 
him a well-directed blow as he passed. We may fairly suppose 
that, in the excitement, the rods were used with little forbear- 
ance. It was a hard way for the transgressor, but to refuse to 
travel it was to subject himself to still harder usage. He would 
probably have to endure a scourging preparatory to running 
the gauntlet. 

The origin of the custom of ' ' school-butter, ' ' like that of 
turning out the master, was concealed in the dim ages of the 
past. No tradition told whence or how it came. It was a 
senseless sport; but whether the reckless lad who uttered the 
insulting word, or the indignant scholars who wearied them- 
selves and wasted their time in the usually fruitless effort to 
punish the offense, acted with greater folly, it is not easy to 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 13 

decide. It furnished another proof of the difficulty of uproot- 
ing a custom, however foolish and troublesome, which can 
boast of age and popular favor, and is in harmony with the 
romantic, adventurous spirit of boyhood. 

The schools of all ages and all countries have had their 
recreations and frolics. Those of the Bedford schools, in the 
early years of the century, were such as were suited to the 
tastes and manners of a plain, hardy, rural population, differing 
in form and methods, but not in spirit and aim, from those 
common in other times and in other places. Who from the 
verge of life does not sometimes desire to live over again the 
days of childhood and youth, and to share in their glee and 
sports and idle hopes ? This wish cannot be gratified. The 
order of Divine providence is that the old shall guide, restrain, 
uphold, encourage, and train for usefulness the young; and the 
young, in their inexperience and dangers, shall trust, rever- 
ence, and obey the old. Blessed are the old who, with the 
experience of years, retain the freshness, vivacity, and hope- 
fulness of youth; and blessed are the young who, amid the fas- 
cinations and delusions of early life, seek the guidance of that 
wisdom which only age can give. 



III. 

THE STATE OF SOCIETY. 

THE state of society in my native county, in the days of 
my boyhood, did not differ materially, I presume, from 
that of the Piedmont region, or, indeed, of the rural districts 
generally. The people were plain, and mostly industrious and 
honest. Their notorious vices were drunkenness and fighting. 
In that day the use of strong drink was universal, or limited 
only by the ability to obtain it. Many of the farmers had large 
orchards, and made brandy for their own use and for that of 
their neighbors. As there was no tax on the distillation of 
spirits, almost every neighborhood had its distillery for the 
manufacture of whiskey. At every place of public resort — 
store, blacksmith's shop, or mill — the liquid was freely offered 
for sale, and everywhere found a ready market. Most families 
kept it in their " case," and all, from the hoary-headed father 
to the little child, partook daily of the morning "dram" and 
the noontide ' ' grog " or " toddy. ' ' Families too poor to 
indulge in its daily use would drink it freely on holiday and 
festive occasions. At musters, courts, ' ' corn-shuckings ' ' and 
"log-rollings," all drank, at their own expense or that of their 
friends. It is not surprising, where drinking was universal, that 
drunkenness was common. It is proper to remark, however, 
that the excess was occasional rather than habitual. There 
were many drunkards, but few sots. Men were preserved 
from habitual inebriety partly from a motive of economy, and 
partly from the incessant demands of their business. On 
muster-days and court-days the frequency of drunkenness 
stripped it, in a great measure, of its shame and reproach; but 
at other times and on other occasions it was more disreputable. 
It must be said, in honor of the society, that the vice was 
almost unknown among females. Many of the old women 
smoked their pipes, and women of all ages drank, constantly 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 15 

or occasionally, toddy; but not until I had passed my majority 
and left the county of my nativity did my eyes behold that 
monstrous sight — a drunken woman. 

As already stated, "fighting" was a prevalent vice in the, 
community. When men got at variance they settled their 
controversies, not in the genteel and refined method of blow- 
ing out one another's brains with powder and ball, but by furi- 
ous quarrelling, too often accompanied by revolting profanity, 
ending in a regular game of fisticuffs. The combat brought 
no disgrace on the pugilists; and though they were sometimes 
"parted" by their friends, they were usually permitted, with 
what was called "fair play," to continue the fight until the one 
having the least strength or the least ' ' pluck ' ' was constrained 
to cry, ' ' Enough ! ' ' Every blow struck after that sign of sur- 
render was deemed cowardly and mean. Rarely a muster 
passed without one or more fights. A half dozen on court- 
day was deemed a very moderate number, and sometimes the 
excitement and the combats would become what was termed a 
1 ' battle royal. ' ' 

It is not strange that a vice so common and so popular 
should have developed professional fighters. They were known 
as ' ' bullies. ' ' Men of great muscle, courage, and power of 
endurance gained for themselves a renown resembling that of 
the knight-errants of old by their pugilistic exploits. They 
were viewed by the vulgar crowd as men of great distinction. 
They very naturally became haughty, insolent, and defiant, 
awakening fear among all the feebler combatants, and con- 
tempt in all persons of refinement and virtue. They strutted 
on the muster-fields and court-greens, conscious of their physi- 
cal superiority and their acknowledged prowess. 

It may assist the reader to form a juster estimate of the 
times by stating an event, as we heard it in our boyhood, in 
the life of a celebrated bully. It occurred at a roadside tavern. 
A dispute arose between him and a Kentucky traveller. The 
rowdy was tall and muscular, weighing two hundred pounds, 
and in full training for single combat. The Kentuckian was 
a small, well formed, and agile man, of perfect self-possession. 



16 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Prom some difference of views the Bedford hero was induced to 
use insulting language to the traveller, who coolly stated that 
if the language were repeated he would chastise the offender. 
Of course such a threat was not to be endured. A fight en- 
sued, in which the bully was thoroughly whipped and humbled. 
The best of the story is, that he never again attempted to dis- 
tinguish himself in the game of fisticuffs. 

It will not seem surprising that a vice so common and so 
glorious among men should have found imitators among boys. 
Fighting might almost have been classed among the amuse- 
ments of some of the schools. To endure an insult was con- 
trary to the ethical code of the boys. They might be restrained 
by natural timidity, parental authority, or the dread of an un- 
equal conflict from resenting an offense or an injury; but lex 
talionis was the law of boyhood. Few boys of that day 
reached manhood without fighting, and many of them had 
more combats than they had fingers and toes. These impo- 
tent conflicts were usually attended with very little harm. A 
scratched face or a bitten finger was ordinarily the worst result 
of these juvenile pugilisms. The boys deemed it prudent not 
to allow any serious injury to be inflicted in these combats, lest 
they should become implicated in the guilt, and the rod should 
be substituted for the fist. 

The amusements were such as corresponded with the times 
and the people. Dancing was not a common, but an occa- 
sional and holiday exercise. It was rarely practiced without 
special preparation, and then its devotees aimed to indemnify 
themselves for its infrequency by excessive indulgence.- They 
danced till the exercise became a weariness and nature impera- 
tively demanded its needed repose. The plays in which the 
sexes united were blindman's buff, thimble, whifffing-pin, and 
many others whose names I have forgotten, and which, if I 
could mention, would convey no definite conceptions to the 
mind of the reader. 

The sports in which men took part were mostly athletic. 
Hunting was a favorite exercise of many, both young and old. 
Squirrels, hares, partridges, ducks, wild turkeys, opossums, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 17 

foxes, raccoons, deer, and bears were all hunted by sportsmen. 
The game, on the whole, was not worth the powder, but it 
created excitement, which was no little valued by the popula- 
tion of a quiet, rural district. Hounds, traps, and guns — both 
smooth and rifled — were put in requisition for the sport. 

In hunting and shooting I was undistinguished. The first 
time I was trusted with a gun I came upon a squirrel standing' 
in a path a few steps from me, nibbling an ear of corn which he 
had feloniously taken from a contiguous held. I was seized 
with an instant tremor. After hasty consideration my plan of 
assault was laid. I ran at the thief to drive him up a tree, and 
succeeded admirably. He climbed a tall oak, thickly covered 
with boughs, and I saw him no more. It was fully six months 
before it occurred to me that I might have shot him on the 
ground. My subsequent success in sportsmanship fully cor- 
responded with this unpromising commencement. I could 
never kill anything, either running or on the wing. I could 
take aim as accurately, or tire as quickly, as any marksman; 
but if I fired, I did not take aim; and if I took aim, I did not 
fire. In either case, the game was unharmed. If slaughtered 
animals were permitted to indict their relentless pursuers, few 
of all the Bedford boys would be freer from blame than I, pro- 
vided that guilt be graduated, not by the intent, but by the 
execution. 

Shooting, especially with a rifle, was much practiced, and 
carried to high perfection. To be called a "marksman" was 
no mean distinction. The guns used in those days cannot be 
compared with those which science and skill have forged in 
the present time for range and execution; but many of the 
Bedford marksmen, were they living and in their glory, might 
safely compete, within the range of their guns, for prizes with 
riflemen whose exploits have filled the world with their renown. 
This attainment became a serious temptation to the Bedford 
sportsmen. Shooting matches were common throughout the 
region. If a man had a bullock, or horse, or gun, or any 
other article for sale, he would set it up, as the phrase was, 
" to be shot for. ' ' A price was placed on the article, the sum 



18 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

was equally divided among the contestants, and the best marks- 
man carried off the prize. The practice was attended with the 
usual evils of gaming, but it cultivated to the highest excel- 
lence the art of gunnery. 

Running, jumping, wrestling, and the like were sports com- 
mon among men of mature age, as well as among boys. They 
were innocent recreations, well suited to exercise and strengthen 
the muscles of men accustomed to toil and hardships. I may 
mention a fact, in passing, for the consideration of physiolo- 
gists. At the opening of the late war I addressed a company 
of Bedford mountaineers, whose habits did not differ widely 
from those of the men I have described. I congratulated them 
on their ability to endure the fatigues and privations of war. 
Subsequent observations and trustworthy statistics convinced 
me that the clerks and mechanics of the cities bore the expo- 
sures and hardships of military service better than the rough 
sons of toil from the country. How was that ? 

One point I must not overlook. I have seen what appeared 
to be truthful statistics demonstrating that, with the progress of 
popular education and the arts of civilization, offenses against 
persons are diminished and those against property are increased. 
In the days of my boyhood, and in the region of my nativity, 
locks were almost unknown. Some persons locked their 
"meat-houses," but their cribs, barns, and stables, and even 
their dwellings, were defended by no such useless contrivance, 
and yet robbery was a rare offense. Whether in these days of 
public schools and advanced civilization locks are found to be 
unnecessary, I know not. It is probable they are not. Fight- 
ing is a great evil. It indicates a low grade of civilization; but 
between bullies and thieves, we unhesitatingly give the prefer- 
ence to the former. Bullies are governed by false views of life 
and duty, but they may have within them the elements of which 
heroes are made. Thieves, cheats, and persons who contract 
debts without the purpose of paying them are unmitigated 
scoundrels, not possessing a single trait of nobility. We say 
not these things to disparage education, but that a just estimate 
of its advantages and dangers may be formed. 



i 



IV. 

THE STATE OF SOCIETY. 

THE religious privileges of the people were few, and not 
of the first quality. They were divided in their opinions 
and preferences between the Presbyterian, Methodist, and Bap- 
tist denominations. Their houses of worship, with scarcely an 
exception, were either built of logs or framed, without plaster- 
ing, ceiling, or stoves, fitted merely as shelters from sun and 
rain. In the winter seasons preaching was kept up chiefly in 
private dwellings. Religious services were conducted monthly, 
or at greater or shorter intervals, but in no case weekly. 
Most persons provided with conveyances could, within a 
radius of six or eight miles, conveniently attend worship every 
Lord's-day, conducted by one or another of the prevalent de- 
nominations. Sunday-schools were unknown. They existed 
in older and more advanced communities; but if the rumor of 
their existence had reached Bedford, I do not remember it. 
Meetings for social prayer were rarely held. I have no recol- 
lection of attending one until I had reached maturity, and that 
was a notable failure. 

The preaching of the day was evangelical. It might be con- 
fused in arrangement, meagre in thought, obscure, ungram- 
matical and coarse in style, and vociferous and awkward in de- 
livery; but, with few exceptions, it disclosed, with more or 
less distinctness and force, the atonement of Christ and the 
necessity of regeneration. It was remarkable for its experi- 
mental character. Most sermons contained an account of the 
conversions, conflicts, sorrows, and perplexities of a soul in its 
passage from death to life, somewhat after the manner of 
Christian in the Pilgrim's Progress. There was little variety 
in the preaching. Many sermons began with the fall of man, 
touched on the principal doctrines of revelation, gave a Chris- 
tian's experience, conducted him safely to heaven, and wound 



20 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

up with the resurrection of the dead, the general judgment, 
the retribution of eternity, and an application of the subject 
according as ' ' light and liberty ' ' were granted. These dis- 
courses were generally an hour and a half, and sometimes three 
hours in length. A few were of moderate length, and deliv- 
ered in better taste. 

Many of the preachers " spiritualized" their texts; that is, 
they would take plain, historical passages of Scripture, and, 
by fanciful resemblances, draw from them lessons of which 
their authors never dreamed. The Songs of Solomon were an 
inexhaustible source of texts for the allegorizers. There was 
scarcely a verse in the book which they did not torture into 
pious absurdity. Some of these mystifiers found the matter for 
a tedious sermon in a single word. A godly, worthy, and 
highly esteemed preacher took for his text: " Wherefore, gird 
up the loins of your mind," &c. He based his discourse on 
the word ' ' loins, ' ' which he confounded with the word lines. 
There were various kinds of lines — lines by which carpenters 
executed their work — lines for the division of lands — lines of 
stages for travellers — lines for guiding unruly teams — and in 
all these uses of the word he found a mystical import, which 
he unfolded to the delight and for the edification of his hearers. 
Other preachers went still further, and found a spiritual import 
in every letter of the Bible. A pious minister declared that he 
believed that not only every text, but every letter, and every 
crook and dot in every letter, had a spiritual meaning. His 
trouble was, that he could not discern all these mysteries. I 
will give a brief outline of a discourse of one of these spiritual- 
izes. His text was : ' ' Salvation is of the Lord. ' ' To him it 
seemed that there was something mystical in every letter of 
the word Salvation. He proceeded to evolve its mysteries. 
"S," said he, "saving salvation [not very luminous]; A, 
almighty salvation; L, lasting salvation; V, vast salvation; A — 
this A, my brethren, signifies the same as the other A; T, 
eternal salvation [he was probably a better divine than ortho- 
grapher]; I, incomprehensible salvation; ON — we will take 
both these letters together — honorable salvation." The 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 21 

preacher had now a broad foundation for his sermon, on which 
he built leisurely and for an hour or two. 

It must be conceded that these are the poorest specimens of 
tke allegorical style of preaching. In merit, however, there 
was little distinction between the best and the worst, the most 
ingenious and the most absurd, discourses of this style. They 
were all drawn from an exuberant imagination, and not from 
the oracles of God. It is proper, too, to state that amid much 
that was puerile and disgusting there was frequently mingled 
momentous truth, illustrated by apt analogies and enforced 
with unaffected pathos. It should be remembered, also, that 
this method of expounding the Scriptures claimed high au- 
thority. It originated with, or was, at least, greatly encour- 
aged by Origen, one of the most learned and voluminous of 
the early Christian Fathers. Dr. Gill, unrivalled among 
modern commentators for Hebraistic lore, gave no little en- 
couragement to it. It must be noted, too, that the practice 
was not limited to the illiterate, but prevailed, more or less, 
with ministers of the highest culture and of all denominations. 
This remark was certainly true within the range of my juvenile 
observations. 

There was another striking peculiarity in the preaching that 
I heard in my early years. It was eminently controversial. 
Every preacher was a polemic. Whether his text was doctri- 
nal or practical, historical or poetical, gracious or denunciatory, 
he could find in it a hook on which to suspend his distinctive 
notions, and a club with which to defend them. If he was a 
Methodist, his hearers would have no doubt that he rejected 
predestination, believed in Christian perfection (whatever that 
may be), and the liability of believers to fall from grace, and, 
quite probably, infant baptism and the validity of the ordinance 
by sprinkling. Presbyterians and Baptists were quite ready to 
assert and defend the doctrines of election, and the certain sal- 
vation of all believers; nor were they slow to attack what they 
considered Arminian errors. Baptists did not then — certainly 
very few ministers among them did — give undue prominence to 
their distinctive views. 



22 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

To the candid and fair discussion of doctrinal questions on 
which Christians differ there can be no objection. It is de- 
manded by the love of truth and fidelity to Christ. Unfortu- 
nately, however, the religious controversies of those days were 
too often conducted in a bitter and abusive spirit. The aim of 
the contestants seemed to be, not to convince their hearers and 
win them to the truth, but to wound, overwhelm, and bring 
into contempt their opponents. Had their hearers judged of 
Calvinists from the representations of Methodists, they must 
have concluded that the believers in predestination were not 
only infatuated, but on the high-road to the perpetration of all 
manner of crimes. "It came from hell," it was said, "and 
would be the means of conducting multitudes thither. If it 
were true, God would be worse than the devil." These vio- 
lent assaults were returned by Calvinists in full measure, heaped 
up and running over. Said a preacher, who, by the sharp- 
ness of his sascasm, had acquired the title of " The Arminian 
Skinner, " " From fifty to a hundred souls are converted at a 
Methodist camp-meeting. In a little while they all fall from 
grace. What a disappointment! The poor souls were disap- 
pointed; the Methodists were disappointed; and God was dis- 
appointed. The only way to save Methodist converts is to cut 
off their heads and send them straight to heaven before they 
have an opportunity of falling from grace. ' ' 

It must not be supposed that all preachers labored in this 
spirit and manner. The general tendency was to doctrinal and 
controversial preaching ; but there were many preachers who 
avoided in the pulpit all acrimonious and discourteous remarks. 
They preached the gospel with simplicity and earnestness. 
Among these may be mentioned Rev. William Harris, the 
venerable pastor of my- youth, of whom I may have occasion 
to speak more particularly in a future chapter. 

It is questionable whether ministers of the present day are 
not, in danger of drifting to the opposite extreme from that of 
the early preachers of the century. A sickly sentimentalism 
is leading them, not only to avoid offensive language in the 
pulpit, but to efface the distinction between truth and error. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 23 

Bigotry is bad, but not so bad as religious indifference. There 
is a sharp conflict between truth and error, right and wrong ; 
and God requires that his servants shall espouse and earnestly, 
but lovingly, maintain the teachings of his work. 

I must notice another peculiarity in the preaching of those 
times. Much of it was uttered in a monotonous, singing tone. 
This tone usually indicated the higher and more impassioned 
parts of the discourse. There was power in it. Among a 
plain, uncritical people it had a wonderful mastery over the 
sympathies. Many of these unsophisticated preachers carried 
the art of intoning their sermons to the highest excellence. 
There were most touching melody and pathos in their voices. 
Rev. Andrew Broaddus, of Caroline, one of the most polished 
speakers I have ever heard, would occasionally, in the highest 
strains of his enrapturing eloquence, glide into the " holy 
tone ' ' with thrilling effect. The tones of the voice have much 
to do with the influence of all kinds of public speaking. It is 
supposed by some Hellenists that Demosthenes delivered his 
splendid orations in tones resembling those adopted by the old 
preachers. Certain it is, many plain people value sermons 
more on account of the intonations in their delivery than the 
thoughts they convey. In confirmation of this remark, I had 
a striking instance in my own experience. Many years ago, 
an artless stranger, whom I casually met, said to me: " I hear 
you preach every Sunday. You are the greatest preacher I 
ever did hear. " "Ah!" said I, "you have not, I suppose, 
heard Mr. M. preach.'' At that time Mr. M. was attracting 
great attention by his sermons. " Yes," he replied, " I have 
heard Mr. M. several times. He is a great preacher; but he 
is not so great a preacher as you are. You have most the 
mournfidest voice of any man I ever did hear. ' ' It was evi- 
dent that not my thoughts or style, but the modulation of my 
voice, though I had not attained to the holv art of ' ' intoning", ' ' 
had won the admiration of my strange hearer. 



V. 

NOTABLE MINISTERS. 

RESIDING, during my early years, in obscure and unfre- 
quented portions of the country, I knew, of course, not 
many ministers distinguished for their abilities, labors, or posi- 
tion in life. I saw, however, a few who by their gifts or eccen- 
tricities had acquired notoriety, and of whom I retain a some- 
what vivid recollection. Among them I may mention Lorenzo 
Dow. I take the following account of him from the Encyclo- 
pedia of Religious Knowledge: 

' ' He was one of the most remarkable men of his age for his 
zeal and labors in the cause of religion. He was a native of 
Coventry, Connecticut, and in early life became deeply im- 
pressed by the truths of religion, and felt urged by motives 
irresistible to devote his life to the preaching of the gospel in 
various parts of the world. His eccentric dress and style of 
preaching attracted great attention, while his shrewdness and 
quick discernment of character gave him no inconsiderable in- 
fluence over the multitudes that attended on his ministry. He 
travelled extensively in England and Ireland, and repeatedly 
visited every portion of the United States. He had been a 
public preacher for more than thirty years, and it is probable 
that more persons have heard the gospel from his lips than 
from those of any other individual since the days of Whitefield. 
He wrote several books, particularly a history of his own life, 
so singularly eventful and full of vicissitudes. His purity of 
purpose, and integrity and benevolence of character, can hardly 
be questioned. He was a~ Methodist in principle, and, though 
not in connection with that society, was held in esteem by 
many of that body. He died in Georgetown, D. C, February 
2, 1834." . 

In my boyhood, about the year 1813, I attended a Methodist 
camp-meeting in Botetourt, now Roanoke county, near the 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 25 

Big Lick. Dow was present. The desire to see and hear him 
was as great as if he had been an inspired apostle. He kept 
himself closely concealed until the hour for his occupation of 
the stage. His appearance was extremely outre. He was past 
midlife, rather above the ordinary stature; his hair was long 
and hung loosely over his shoulders, and his dress was accord- 
ing to no fashion of which I had knowledge, either modern or 
ancient. His text — if text he took, and if my memory is not 
at fault — was: "All things whatsoever ye would that men 
should do to you, do ye even so to them." I was too young 
to form any opinion of the merit of the sermon. I saw Lorenzo 
Dow, and that was no unimportant event in the life of an ob- 
scure country lad. I remember nought of the sermon except 
that it condemned in strong terms persons who employed 
false measures in trade. 

I never saw Dow afterwards; but the country abounded in 
stories of his eccentricities. One or two of them I will record. 
He preached in the county of Bedford some years before I 
saw him. Looking over his large congregation, he said, in a 
solemn manner : "A person on my right hand will die in a few 
months," or words of similar import. The prediction was 
quite within the range of probability, but many deemed it 
oracular. A lady of the neighborhood, wealthy and respected, 
appropriated the prophecy to herself, went home, took to her 
bed, and was soon buried. 

Dow, as I afterwards learned, gave notice that he would 
preach at an old colonial church in Nansemond county, or 
somewhere in that region, one year from the publication of the 
notice. At the appointed time a great crowd assembled. Dow 
had not been heard from, and none knew where he was. While 
all were in expectation and doubt, a noise was heard in the 
contiguous grove. The preacher had arrived, ascended a 
bended tree, posted himself among its branches, and com- 
menced religious services. Soon the congregation vacated the 
church and assembled around the eccentric preacher in the 
grove. 

I will give a current story of Dow, of the truth of which I 



26 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

have no proof. It has verisimilitude. It is more likely to be 
true of him than of any other minister of whom I have had 
any knowledge. It is said that Dow, on his way to an appoint- 
ment for preaching, fell in with a man that complained that his 
axe had been stolen. After learning the facts of the case the 
preacher promised the stranger that he would endeavor to re- 
cover the axe. On ascending the pulpit he remarked that an 
axe had been stolen in the neighborhood, and that the thief was 
in the congregation, and drawing a stone from his pocket, he 
lifted his hand, with vehemence of manner, as if he were in the 
act of throwing the stone, and said: " I will knock him down 
with this stone." The thief dodged, and Dow, pointing to 
him, said: " That is the man who stole the axe." 

In my boyhood I saw another man who, if less gifted and 
less distinguished than Dow, was certainly not less eccentric. 
This was Jeremiah Minter. He was a tall, spare man, probably 
sixty years old when I saw him. His residence, I think, was 
in Mecklenburg county, Va. He was an independent, itinera- 
ting evangelist — probably an imitator of Dow. He had been 
a Methodist, but, either from choice or necessity, had been 
dissevered from that communion. He wrote and published 
several small volumes, which he sold, probably for his support, 
in his religious ramblings. He interpreted Matthew xix: 12 
literally, and showed his faith by his works. His error can 
scarcely be considered so strange as it is that the same operation 
should be performed to secure for the Pope's choir in Rome 
fine alto voices. It made Minter, however, an object of curios- 
ity and wonder, and caused him to be viewed with mingled 
emotions of contempt and amazement. 

Whether he was a monomaniac I am not qualified to say. 
His appearance, manners, and conversation, so far as I can 
remember them, furnished no proof of his insanity. A state- 
ment contained in one of his books seemed to evince that he 
was laboring under a hallucination. In one of his journeys 
among the Alleghany mountains he affirms, with great confi- 
dence, that he saw the ghost of Bishop Asbury (I think that 
is the name), and that he was in torment. He appeared in an 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 27 

old field, on the road side, in the form of a white horse. That 
Minter saw the horse is quite likely, but how he identified him 
with the good bishop, so far as I can recollect, he does not 
state. If the white horse was really a spirit from the invisible 
world, it might be more reasonably inferred from his color that 
he was * ' an angel of light ' ' than a lost spirit from the region 
of ' ' the blackness of darkness. ' ' In all ages and among all 
peoples white has been the symbol of purity, and black of guilt 
and error. 

I must refer briefly to another eminent minister whom I saw 
in my youth — the Rev. Conrad Speece. He differed widely 
from Minter and Dow. He was a Presbyterian minister, re- 
siding in his latter years in Augusta county, Va. At one time 
he united with a Baptist church, but in a short while, from 
some dissatisfaction or change in his views, he returned to the 
Presbyterian communion. I heard him preach in a grove near 
Hardy's Mill, in Bedford county, when my mind was quite too 
immature to form an intelligent judgment of his sermon. In 
person he was large, muscular, having more the appearance of 
a blacksmith than a preacher. His manner of speaking was 
very different from that to which I had been accustomed. It 
had nothing of "the holy tone," the ranting, and the vehe- 
mence then so common in sermons, but was natural, simple, 
and conversational. His sermon, as well as I can remember 
it, was a discussion of the character and labors of the apostle 
Paul. To me it seemed tame, but better judges than I was 
pronounced it an admirable specimen of pulpit eloquence. 

In the year 1832 (or about that time) I saw. Dr. Speece again, 
at a memorable temperance convention held in Charlottesville, 
Va. It was attended by many distinguished men from this 
and other States. The Temperance Reformation was then in 
its noontide glory. The wine question was just beginning to 
divide and agitate its friends. Measures . were proposed and 
remarks were made regarding the use of wine which the 
Doctor thought extreme and contrary to the teaching of the 
Scriptures. In rising to discuss the subject, he remarked that 
he would "take the bull by the horns." He made a speech 



28 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

which, far deliberation, clearness, logical acumen, comprehen- 
siveness, and wisdom, I have rarely heard excelled. An oppo- 
nent, in replying, charged the Doctor with taking the bull by 
the tail rather than by the horns. The wit caused great amuse- 
ment, but it could not weaken the force of the Doctor's reason- 
ing. 

I remember that many years ago the venerable Dr. W. S. 
Plumer said that Speece was the greatest man, or one of the 
greatest men. whom he had known. He compared him to a 
heavy columbiad. under whose wide range small arms might 
be usefully employed. He was, undoubtedly, a man of great 
intellectual force. 



VI. 

THE STRA WBERR Y ASS O CIA TION. 

THIS body included, until I had reached manhood, the 
churches of Bedford and several adjoining counties. The 
first session of it which I attended met at Hatcher's meeting- 
house, so called from the name of my grandfather, the first 
pastor of the church, ,£>n whose land it was built. I cannot 
remember the year of this meeting ; I am sure that I was then 
in my teens. I recollect nothing of the proceedings of the 
body, but call very distinctly to mind two ministers who were 
present. 

One was Elder William Duncan. He resided in Amherst 
county, and was a messenger from the Albemarle Association. 
He was baptized in early life (I think by my grandfather), 
soon entered the ministry, and acquired a considerable local 
reputation. Taylor says of him : ' ' He was a man of no ordi- 
nary talent and influence. He occupied a large place in the 
regards of his brethren of the Albemarle Association, and for 
a period of sixteen years in the State of Missouri. His mem- 
ory is precious to the churches, and it must not be suffered to 
pass into forgetfulness. " When I saw him he was about 
forty years old, tall, raw-boned, and seemingly of not a vigor- 
ous constitution. He preached from the words : " Who gave 
himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and 
purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." 
Of the sermon I remember nothing, except that it was deliver- 
ed in a simple, earnest manner, without the common sing-song 
tone. 

Another minister whom I remember was Elder John An- 
thony. His labors dated back to the Revolutionary time, and 
he was the only preacher whom I saw that had the honor of 
having suffered imprisonment for the cause of Christ. So far 
as I can recollect, no reference was made at the time to the fact 



30 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

by himself or others. It was probably many years before I 
gained a knowledge of it. Mr. Anthony was an earnest, good 
man, but not a great preacher. I recollect that he preached, 
but can recall nothing of his sermon except the monotonous 
manner of its delivery. His voice sounded like the low bellow- 
ing of a bull, with very slight variations. I intend no dis- 
paragement of Elder Anthony's discourse by this comparison. 
There was great variety in the tunes in which the fathers sung 
their sermons — melodious and harsh, loud and soft, uniform 
and variable. The worst cases of drawling that I heard from 
them would compare favorably, in art and impressiveness, with 
a specimen of " intoning " to which I listened a few years since 
in a magnificent cathedral in the city of Montreal, Dominion 
of Canada. 

The next session of the Association at which I was present 
met at the Suck Spring meeting-house, in the neighborhood 
where I was brought up. I know not the year in which it 
occurred. It was attended by one of the heaviest rains that I 
have known. Small rivulets were increased into turbulent and 
dangerous rivers. The whole country was deluged. Cloaks 
and umbrellas were of little avail, and the devotees of fashion 
were less concerned for the preservation of their finery than 
that they might safely navigate the streams that crossed their 
w T ays. At this meeting, as at the former, my attention was 
chiefly attracted by two ministers. 

The first was Elder John King, of Henry county. He had 
lost a limb by amputation, and was usually called "Wooden- 
Leg John King." He was a native of Brunswick county, and 
commenced his ministry there, but early removed to Henry 
county. He is respectfully mentioned by Semple in his his- 
tory. Taylor says of him: " He was a man of strong mind. 
As a preacher he was inclined to be doctrinal. He knew how 
to bring from the treasury of the Word things new and old. ' ' 
I was too young to judge soundly of his abilities, but well re- 
member that he was considered the ablest preacher of the 
Association. He was greatly admired by Mr. Jesse Witt, the 
father of Dr. D. Witt, who possessed an excellent judgment. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 31 

I remember a remark of King, which the old man reported: 
"lam more afraid of John King than of all the devils in 
hell." He preached at the Association referred to, and, I 
think, the introductory sermon, from the text : ' ' The hands 
of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this house; his 
hand shall also finish it. ' ' He considered Zerubbabel as a type 
of Christ, and the temple a type of the Church; and spoke 
with great plainness, force, and dignity. He would, I doubt 
not, have commanded respect in any community where intel- 
ligence, truth, and piety were held in estimation. 

The other preacher whom I remember was John W. Kelly. 
He was the first young minister whom I had seen. I was 
more impressed by his youthfulness than by his abilities. 
Afterward I became well acquainted with him. He was an 
excellent man, who labored long and hard to acquire an edu- 
cation. He was a good preacher, but would have preached 
better had he never heard that remarkable man, John Kerr, 
preach. He greatly admired Kerr's preaching, and showed 
his good taste in so doing; but, consciously or unconsciously, 
he became an imitator of his preaching. It was not possible 
for the kite to soar with the eagle. Of all the men I have 
known, Kelly possessed the greatest power over the risible 
faculties. In the pulpit and on all religious topics he was 
severely grave, but when in private or in public he gave indul- 
gence to his humorous mood he convulsed his hearers with 
laughter. They would sometimes escape from his presence to 
avoid the pain of laughing. Had he been an actor he would 
have been as eminent in comedy as Garrick was in tragedy. 

I will relate one of his stories, though it has no connection 
with the Association, because it illustrates the character of 
the man and the spirit of his times. An association (not the 
Strawberry) was held with one of his churches. During the 
meeting he and several visitors staid with a Mr. C. , a wealthy 
planter, whose wife was a member of the church. Though 
several strange ministers were present, nothing would satisfy 
the C. family but that Kelly should preach at night at their 
house. After the service it became obvious to the guests that 



32 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

some matter of grave importance was occupying the minds of 
the household. Mr. C. and his wife in one direction, and the 
sons and daughters in another, were engaged in earnest con- 
versation. None could conjecture the cause of these secret, 
earnest conferences. Early in the morning Mrs. C. beckoned 
to Brother Kelly, and conducted him to a secluded shed-room. 
A chair had been prepared for him to be seated between the 
husband and wife. Kelly felt quite sure that the agitating family 
secret was soon to be divulged to him. Mrs. C. conducted 
the conversation. "Brother Kelly," said she, "you have 
been preaching for us a long time, and we greatly admire your 
preaching, but we have never given you anything. I and my 
husband have consulted, and decided that we ought to make 
you a present. ' ' There was never a time, Kelly said, when a 
gift could be more acceptable. He had spent all his means 
in acquiring an education. His wardrobe was bare and his 
purse was empty. His hope was high, as the family were rich, 
and their attachment to him marked. The old lady continued: 
1 ' The times are hard and money is scarce. ' ' By these words 
his expectation was much abated. She proceeded slowly: 
' ' We have a good flock of sheep. ' ' Supposing that he was to 
receive a present in sheep, he was puzzled to know what he 
should do with them. She added: "As you have no sisters 
to knit your socks or make your clothes," — it burst upon his 
mind that he was to receive a suit of homespun clothes, then 
generally worn in the community — a most acceptable present. 
She continued: " I and my old man have concluded that when 
shearing-time comes you shall have wool enough to knit you a 
pair of socks. ' ' The glowing hopes of the young preacher 
sank to zero. How the old sister brought the wool to church, 
and how Brother Kelly evaded the reception of it, and how 
afterwards she apologized to the favorite preacher for having 
used the wool, and how grateful he was to be relieved of the 
task of conveying it home, to provoke the amusement and 
call forth the jests of his young friends, it were tedious to tell; 
but quite sure I am that no person ever heard him relate the 
story without uncontrollable mirth. 



VII. 

TEMPERANCE. 

1HAVE already referred to the almost universal custom 
of drinking alcoholic liquors. I drank as did other boys. 
When I was a little over eight years old, I heard a wagon-boy, 
somewhat older than I, say: "I have not drunk a drop of 
spirit for three years." I had no acquaintance with him, but 
instantly resolved that I would follow his example. I cannot 
now remember the motive which gave birth to the resolution. 
I had no conviction that the use of strong drink was either 
sinful or dangerous, and suspect that I was influenced in my 
purpose more by a desire ' to be singular than to be safe. I 
made no boast, or even mention, of my resolution. The 
pledge was entirely mental. When spirit was afterwards 
offered to me, I simply declined drinking it. A course so 
singular soon attracted attention. My friends were surprised 
and troubled that I should have adopted a resolution fraught 
with so much peril. They were quite sure that I would be- 
come a drunkard. In confirmation of their opinion, they re- 
ferred to at least half a dozen men who had abstained entirely 
from using strong drink, had become sots, and some of them 
died drunkards. I supposed I had made a dreadful mistake, 
and was much troubled at it; for I had great horror of becom- 
ing a drunkard. I counselled with no one on the subject, but 
concluded that my safest course would be to glide back, with- 
out attracting notice, into the use of strong drink. It occurred 
to me, however, that this might be the means of fulfilling the 
prediction of my friends. I was perplexed. I can never for- 
get the pleasure which I experienced when the truth broke on 
my mind that if I should never drink intoxicating liquors it 
would be impossible for me to become a drunkard. My good 
resolution was confirmed. My friends were correct in their 
facts, but erred in their conclusion. There was a mighty factor 



34 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

in the account which they entirely overlooked. The persons 
they named abstained from using strong drink for a time in 
the vain effort of breaking the habit of intoxication which they 
had formed by the long-continued use of strong drink. I had 
no such habit to break. Their reasoning was sound as it ap- 
plied to persons in a condition like that of those named, and 
the soundness of the reasoning constitutes one of the strongest 
motives to abstain from the use of intoxicating drinks. It is 
easy to avoid forming the drunken habit, but almost impossible 
to break it. 

I continued steadfast in my resolution until, in the twentieth 
year of my age, I made a profession of religion ; and then, 
strange to say, I concluded to abandon it, on the ground that 
the gospel had set me free. It seemed unreasonable that I 
should bear a self-imposed yoke. Using strong drink appeared 
to be numbered among the privileges of the kingdom of 
heaven. All Christians enjoyed it, from my venerable and 
very temperate pastor down to the humblest church member; 
and why should not I? This delusion did not long continue 
with me. It is probable that I did not take half a dozen drinks, 
and possibly not a single drink, of intoxicating liquor before I 
renewed my resolution. Of this transaction my late friend, 
Dr. Witt, retained a more distinct recollection than I did, and 
shall furnish the history of it. He says: 

" Some time during the summer of 1822 an event occurred 
which I ought not to pass over in silence, as it contributed 
largely to the safety and the felicity of my life. We (he and 
myself) were attending a meeting at Hatcher's meeting-house, 
and had spent the night at a brother White's, who lived in that 
neighborhood. In the morning, as the custom was, a decanter 
of spirits, with sugar and water, was set out, and we were in- 
vited to partake of it. We were in the habit of tasting, occa- 
sionally, of the insidious cup, but I do not now recollect 
whether on this occasion we drank or not. We were led into 
a conversation on the subject. We concurred in the opinion 
that it was not only a useless habit, but that it was fraught with 
pernicious consequences. We then and there, on a bright and 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 35 

beautiful Sabbath morning, mutually resolved to abstain, dicri?ig 
the remai7ider of our lives, from the use of intoxicati?ig liquor 
as a beverage, and to use it only as a medicine, if used at all. 
We pledged ourselves each to the other, in a hearty shaking 
of hands ; and that sacred pledge we have religiously kept for 
half a century." — Life of Witt, pp. 58, 59. 

The pledge was in itself of small moment. That two lads, 
living in obscurity, should resolve to abstain from using intoxi- 
cating liquor as a beverage, while all their neighbors continued 
the practice, seemed to be unworthy of record. Tall trees 
grow from little acorns, and great effects flow from slight causes. 
That Sabbath morning pledge caused Rev. Abner W. Clopton,. 
of Charlotte county, to abstain from using strong drink, and 
led on to the formation of the Virginia Temperance Society. 
He was unquestionably the father of the Temperance Reforma- 
tion in this State. He conceived the plan of the society ; 
called the meeting for its organization; drafted its constitution; 
defended its principles; prepared the eloquent address to the 
public which accompanied the publication of its first minutes, 
and for several years employed his tongue, pen, arid purse for 
the promotion of its interests. Witt and myself were present 
at the organization of the society, felt a deep interest in its 
success, but played an unimportant part in its formation* The 
society was organized at Ash Camp meeting-house, Charlotte 
county, Va., in the autumn, of 1826. Ample notice had been 
given of the meeting, a large and excited congregation was 
present, and after a full discussion of the principles and aims 
of the society, and earnest appeals for persons to join it, only 
ten could be found willing to sign the pledge, and most of these 
were ministers who had come from a distance to be present at 
the meeting. The society was, however, like a grain of mus- 
tard seed sown in a good soil. It soon sprang up and became 
a great tree. Clopton was indefatigable in its cultivation. In 
a few years a temperance convention was held in Charlottes- 
ville, representing all religious denominations and many por- 
tions of the State, and containing many men of fine talents from 
various parts of the country. Clopton was not there, but the 



36 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

convention was the product of his judicious and courageous 
efforts. 

The society had reached its culmination. It contained at 
its organization the elements of discord. Clopton was far from 
being an ultraist on the subject of Temperance. The society 
was composed of such persons as would pledge themselves to 
abstain from using strong drink, except as a medicine, and 
exert their influence to induce others to adopt the same course. 
Whether wine should be included in the pledge was warmly 
debated at the organization of the society. The inclusion of 
wine was opposed chiefly on the ground that public sentiment 
would not tolerate a measure so extreme. Rev. John W. 
Kelly, noted for his humor, was present, and opposed the in- 
cluding of wines or fermented liquors in the pledge. He 
thought the public would see the propriety of abstaining from 
the use of distilled liquors, but not of other alcoholic drinks. 
We might do something, but would fail entirely by aiming to 
do too much. He illustrated his views by a case of which he 
had knowledge. A sick man was advised to take a dose of 
salts, and assured that it would make him well. He concluded 
that if one dose would make him well, two doses would make 
him better, and three doses would bring him the highest per- 
fection of health. The reasoning seemed to be sound, and the 
sick man took three doses at one time; but the medicine, not 
respecting his logic, came near killing him. He advocated 
the plan of giving one dose — abstinence from strong drink — at 
a time. Against such reasoning, and especially the storm of 
laughter which it provoked, the friends of extending the pledge 
to all intoxicating liquors (of whom I was one) were doomed 
to defeat. Still the seeds of discord had been sown, and they 
sprang up and nourished. The meetings of the society were 
attended with discussions, ineradicable discords and dissatisfac- 
tion, and after a few years were discontinued. The cause, 
however, did not expire with the dissolution of the parent 
society. Other organizations — the Washingtonians, the Sons 
of Temperance, the Good Templars, and I know not how 
many more — sprang up to defend and promote it. It became 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 37 

complicated with questions of State policy and of Church dis- 
cipline, and gave rise to numerous controversies which hindered 
rather than promoted the temperance reformation. From being 
in the van, I fell into the rear of the temperance movement, ' 
without any change of my views or practice. I have continued 
to believe, as I believed in the beginning, that the use of in- 
toxicating liquors, whether distilled or fermented, as a common 
beverage is, to persons of sound health, needless, expensive, 
and fraught with peril to health, morals, happiness, reputation, 
and salvation; and that it is wise, and safe, and commendable 
to avoid the indulgence. If, however, a man dissents from my 
opinion on the subject, and uses intoxicating drinks without 
drunkenness, I am not authorized by any law of God or man 
to condemn him. 

I have wandered quite beyond the sphere of my Recollec- 
tions, but deemed it proper, while on the subject of Temper- 
ance, to sketch my connection with it down to the present 
time. I have been assured by judicious medical friends that 
a cautious use of strong drink, at my period of life, would be 
promotive of my general health and vigor, and of my longev- 
ity; but, as I am not fully convinced of the correctness of the 
advice, and as my compliance with it might need explanation 
and defense, and my example might be perverted to evil, I 
use strong drink only when my health seems to render it neces- 
sary. When a man at the age of seventy-five years, under 
the advice of skillful physicians, uses spirits temperately for 
the preservation of his declining strength, his example furnishes 
no plea for men in the vigor of life and the fulness of health 
to use it for the gratification of their appetite. But there are 
many fools who will not see the subject in that light. Their 
reasoning lies within narrow limits: Senex drinks, and we will 
drink. 



VIII. 

THE GREA T RE VIVAL. 

IN the beginning of the century there was a considerable re- 
ligious awakening in the land of my nativity. I frequently 
heard my seniors tell of the preachers, meetings, and converts 
of those times. They had been succeeded by a long-continued 
season of religious coldness and sterility. Local revivals of 
very limited influence undoubtedly occurred, but when I had 
reached the age of nineteen years none had come within the 
range of my observation. People attended religious meetings 
occasionally, but rather to see and hear what was passing than 
to be profited by the word of God. Churches were small, and 
composed exclusively of members who had reached or passed 
the meridian of life. 

In the summer. of 1821 there began to appear signs of an 
approaching religious revival. Congregations were larger, 
preaching was more searching and earnest, and was heard with 
greater attention and solemnity; tears furnished proof of more 
tender feeling, and prayers for the conversion of sinners were 
more importunate than in years past. The churches hoped 
for a speedy and copious ingathering of precious souls. In the 
latter part of August a meeting of several days was held at 
Hatcher's meeting-house. On Sunday the assembly was large. 
The pulpit in the grove was occupied successively and without 
intermission by elders John Davis, Absalom Dempsey, William 
Harris, and William Leftwich. Their sermons, not abridged 
in length, but increased" in power, were heard with unabated 
interest to the close. The time to favor Zion — yea, the set 
time — had come. The ministers had preached the same doc- 
trine to the same people, under similar circumstances, many a 
time without any apparent effect. Now there seemed to be a 
mysterious, pervasive, and subduing influence attending their 
ministrations. The thoughtless became attentive; the frivolous 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 39 

were awed into solemnity; eyes unused to weeping poured 
out rivers of water, and not a few persons gave utterance to 
sobs, sighs, and lamentations. The preaching was followed 
by singing, prayer, and appropriate counsels and exhortations. 
Many who had come for amusement remained for devotion. 
Gradually and slowly the congregation dispersed, some remain- 
ing till the approach of evening admonished them to depart. 

At that time "protracted meetings," in the present accepta- 
tion of the phrase, were unknown. Meetings of two or three 
days were held, but no religious interest or prospect of useful- 
ness suggested their longer continuance. After the awakening 
services referred to above, religious meetings were greatly 
multiplied. They were mostly held of nights at private houses, 
or of afternoons in arbors prepared for the purpose in forests. 
At these meetings the attendance was large, and solemn heed 
was generally given to the gospel. Inquirers were invited to 
kneel for prayer, and sometimes to occupy special seats for re- 
ceiving private instruction. There was, I now think, a serious 
defect in the directions given to the anxious. They were 
taught the necessity of passing through a round of experiences 
in order to be prepared to receive Christ. Whether the excel- 
lent fathers intended to make this impression, I cannot say. 
Such was the result of their teaching. Awakened, troubled 
souls — polluted, guilty, and helpless — instead of learning that 
it was their duty to believe in Christ, cherished the delusion 
that they must come to him only as penitent or renovated sin- 
ners. They must be good before Christ could accept them; 
they must be healed before they could apply to the Physician. 
Under this mistake many burdened souls labored for weeks or 
months in the vain effort to make themselves worthy. In spite 
of the delusion, and the embarrassment and delay consequent 
on it, the work of conversion went on. The revival spread 
steadily from neighborhood to neighborhood, from church to 
church, and from Bedford to the contiguous counties of Frank- 
lin, Pittsylvania, Botetourt, and Campbell. Several things were 
notable in this revival. 

It was of long continuance. Most modern revivals, dependent 



40 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

on protracted meeting efforts, are transient. They resemble 
a hasty summer shower — refreshing while it lasts, but followed 
soon by drought and barrenness. This revival continued for 
many months — not all the time in one community, but spread- 
ing gradually, as fire in dry stubble, wafted by a gentle wind, 
from church to church, and from one neighborhood to another. 
Neither the heat of summer nor the cold of winter, the toils 
of autumn nor the attractions of spring, arrested its progress. 
Pastors, after weeks of absence, would return to their flocks 
to find that there had been no abatement in their religious 
feelings. 

In a remarkable degree the revival was promoted by agents 
created by itself. In almost every neighborhood where it pre- 
vailed young men were called into the ministry. They were 
very imperfectly equipped for their work, but they labored 
among a plain people, whose demands for ministerial gifts were 
not high and whose spirit was not critical. If these young 
evangelists could not present a logical argument for the truth 
of the gospel, they believed it with all their hearts, and preached 
because they did believe. They were unacquainted with many 
scriptural doctrines, and especially with the proofs of their 
divinity, but they understood the way of salvation. If they 
could not contend with astute sceptics, they could guide the 
honest, earnest inquirer to life eternal. Their sermons were 
impressive, rather instructive, and were noted not for the variety, 
but for the importance of the truths they conveyed. They 
had learned the corruption of their own hearts and the fearful- 
ness of their own guilt, and could testify from sweet experience 
the power and freeness of redeeming grace. They went forth 
to their work plainly clad, without conveyances, and some of 
them without a pocket Bible or a hymn-book, but with glowing 
zeal for the salvation of souls. Whether they had been called 
to the ministry, or were in the apostolic succession, were ques- 
tions which did not occupy their minds. The people desired 
to hear something about Christ, and what these young brethren 
knew concerning him they were willing to tell in such language 
as their hearers could understand. The desire to listen to their 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 41 

ministrations was general and intense, and due, doubtless, in 
part to the prevalence of the revival, and in part to their juve- 
nility and the freshness of their preaching. Everywhere their 
visits were received with pleasure, their congregations were 
large, and their labors were crowned with success. They did 
not labor alone, but in harmony with and under the direction 
of the settled pastors of the churches. 

The revival was distinguished for the excellence of its fruits. 
I have no means of estimating the number added by it to the 
churches. It amounted, first and last, to many hundreds, and 
probably several thousands. As a class, they were noted for 
the steadiness and consistency of their deportment, and 
among them were developed an unusual number of ministers 
distinguished for their piety, gifts, labors, and usefulness. Its 
fruits, however, were not all good. There were such delusions 
and hypocrisies as are, more or less, common in all earnest re- 
vivals. Some persons inspired hopes which they did not fulfill; 
but, on the other hand, quite as many proved to be better than 
they promised. The revival gave birth to excesses which, in 
some form, have accompanied most deep religious awakenings. 
It was quite common for persons under conviction of sin to 
fall, lie on the floor or ground for hours, and to exhibit the 
signs of deep feeling, such as tears, groans, and crying for 
mercy. These exercises, I am convinced, were not unavoid- 
ably; neither were they feigned. They sprang partly from an 
excitable temperament, and partly from an erroneous impression 
that they were the proper signs of true repentance. Honest 
but ill-informed persons cherished these bodily exercises as the 
best means of securing salvation. Time demonstrated that 
those who made the greatest show of their feelings were not 
always the most profitably impressed. One man, whose in- 
tense emotions and violent convulsions I heartily envied, proved 
to be, in after times, a most unsteady and unfruitful Christian. 

This revival was specially important as forming a sort of 
connecting link between the old and new dispensations of the 
Virginia Baptists. The fathers preached without salaries, main- 
tained themselves by their secular toils, and trained the 



42 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

churches, most successfully, to give nothing for the support of 
the gospel. Many of them were opposed, not to learned min- 
isters, but to the training of ministers for their work. They 
were unfortunately driven to these extremes by their opposition 
to the colonial religious establishment. As they charged the 
clergy with preaching from mercenary motives, they deemed 
it necessary to show their own disinterestedness by preaching 
without fee or reward. As they maintained that the clergy 
were men-made preachers, they aimed to demonstrate that they 
themselves were God-made teachers by preaching without 
special training for it. With all their excellent qualities and 
noble works, they erred on these points. These mistakes the 
progress of knowledge and experience was sure to correct. 
The new dispensation — the time of missions, Sunday-schools, 
and ministerial and general education — was co-etaneous with 
the revival above described. It was not the cause, but an im- 
portant factor in the change. It would have taken place had 
the. revival not occurred, but certainly not in precisely the same 
way. It gave a mighty impulse to the Baptist cause in the 
upper portion of the State — an impulse that was soon felt to 
its utmost limits — and furnished the first missionaries of the 
General Association. 

The fathers who labored in that revival long since ceased 
from their labors and entered into rest. Of all the ministers 
called out by it, only two or three are now living. It is pleasant 
to consider that the cause which they loved, and for the pro- 
motion of which they labored, still lives, and, so far as it is 
right and pleasing to God, will live, and prosper, and finally 
triumph. 



IX. 

MY EXPERIENCE. 

"F^XPERIENCE," as it was generally called, occupied a 
I „ much more prominent place in sermons and in religious 
conversation fifty years ago than it does now. It signified that 
series of convictions, emotions, and conflicts intervening between 
the time of the awakening and the conversion of the sinner. 
The term might not have been well chosen, but it was well 
understood by those who used it. Every Christian has, and 
must have, an experience. Conversion is invariably preceded 
and accompanied by certain mental exercises, more or less 
intense and lasting, and these constitute an experience — a 
Christian experience. It is not the whole of a Christian's 
experience, but that part of it which is essential to constitute 
him a Christian. There is great diversity as well as great har- 
mony in the experiences of Christians. They all have the same 
sense of guilt and depravity, the same sorrow for sin, the same 
despair of salvation by works, the same trust in Christ, the 
same feeling of deliverance from sin and guilt, and the same 
joyful hope of eternal life ; but the order, intensity, intermin- 
gling, and continuance of these exercises vary with every true 
convert. I had an experience which I am willing to record 
for the encouragement of anxious inquirers on the subject of 
religion. I give it publicity with the greater pleasure because 
it contains nothing, except mere circumstantials, which is not 
common in the experience of every Christian. If I state some 
things that are trivial and scarcely compatible with the gravity 
of the theme, it is because they may afford encouragement 
to inquirers and assist in guiding sinners assailed by similar 
temptations. 

I was brought up without special religious instruction. Neither 
my father nor my mother was a member of the church. My 
mother, having been trained by a pious father, had strong 



44 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

religious convictions, and her conversation on pious subjects, 
though rarely addressed to me, made an early and deep impres- 
sion on my mind. From my childhood I considered religion 
as supremely important, and viewed all Christians with venera- 
tion. My opportunities for gaining religious knowledge were 
little better abroad than at home. I heard preaching not oftener, 
perhaps, than once a month, and much of that was of a kind 
not adapted to my instruction. The sermons of the time, long 
and tedious, were largely devoted to the fierce discussion of 
abstruse doctrinal points. Occasionally my sympathies would 
be excited by a warm, sing-song discourse. 

In my boyhood I cherished the hope that, in due time, I 
would be converted. That it was my duty to be a Christian, 
was a thought which never entered my mind. The preaching 
that I heard made on me the impression that I must quietly 
wait until God's time for my conversion should come — if, indeed, 
it should ever come. With these views I grew up, spending 
the Sundays in which I had not an opportunity to hear preach- 
ing in visiting and in the amusements and sports of the times. 

I remember distinctly the first prayer that I ever uttered. It 
was in the summer of 1819, when I was about seventeen years 
old. As I was plowing alone, my thoughts were suddenly 
arrested by the presence and majesty of God. I was over- 
whelmed with awe, and falling on my knees pleaded with God 
for mercy. Though I knew that no being but the Omniscient 
saw me, I. -was filled with deep shame that I had attempted to 
pray. For days I went with a downcast countenance, not hav- 
ing courage to look my friends in the face, and ashamed that 
even God should have heard my prayers. My impressions, 
however, were not immediately effaced. For several weeks 
I carefully concealed my emotions, but continued to pray for 
Divine aid. In this time I became quite self-righteous. I was 
growing, as I supposed, very good, and looked with great com- 
passion on my companions in their levity, guilt, and danger. 
In a few weeks my impressions were effaced, and my fair reso- 
lutions were abandoned. My goodness, as the morning cloud 
and as the early dew, passed away. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 45 

I have referred, in another chapter, to the revival which com- 
menced in my neighborhood in the year 1821. In the early 
summer I attended a Sabbath service at the Suck Spring Baptist 
meeting-house, near my paternal residence. I did what it was 
unusual for me to do — remained without the house during the 
sermon. It was a communion season. After the congregation 
had partially dispersed I went into the house. The service was 
about closing, as usual on such an occasion, with singing a song 
and shaking hands. There was much warmth of feeling among 
the communicants. It was one of the signs of the approaching 
revival. At first I amused myself with a young lady of my 
acquaintance, who was looking gravely on the scene. Soon 
my own attention was arrested by it, and I burst into an irre- 
pressible flood of tears. My mortification at this unexpected 
and, as it appeared to me, unseemly demonstration of feeling 
was intense. I left the house, concealed myself until the con- 
gregation had all left, and then rode home alone and in anxious 
thought. This was the commencement of my second effort to 
become a Christian. I betook myself to reading the Scriptures, 
meditation, and prayer. In a few days I attended the burial of 
a young man whom I had known. He was of respectable con- 
nections, but had become intemperate, and by a reckless course 
of dissipation had brought himself to an untimely end. As the 
body had been brought a considerable distance to He interred, 
it was deemed proper to open the coffin. I looked into it, and 
such a sight I have never elsewhere seen. The eyes and mouth 
of the corpse were stretched wide open, and neither force nor 
skill could close them. The unfortunate death of the young 
man and the horrid appearance of his ghastly face made a deep 
impression on my nervous system, that had been weakened by 
anxiety and sleeplessness. I lost all interest in society, pursued 
my daily labor with a heavy heart, ate my food without relish, 
and could not close my eyes at night without having full in 
my view the revolting sight of the young man in his coffin. 
My religious convictions and my nervous disorder were insepa- 
rable. Together they formed an intolerable burden. All nature 
was veiled in gloom, and my existence was a weariness. Prayer 



46 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

seemed to add to my distress, and my nervous excitement made 
my prayers a confusion and a mockery. I deliberately came 
to the conclusion that, to get rid of my nervous trouble, I must 
suppress my religious convictions, and for the present, at any 
rate, abandon all hope of salvation. Fresh air, exercise, society, 
and amusements soon restored me to health, and my restoration 
to a sound nervous condition found me free from all religious 
concern, and as frivolous, worldly, and far from God as I had 
ever been. If I could reach the kingdom of heaven only by 
the dismal road that I had been travelling, I had no wish to 
make the journey. Here ends the second chapter in my reli- 
gious experience — if religious experience it may be called. 



X. 

MY EXPERIENCE— Continued. 

IN another chapter I have given a pretty full account of the 
commencement of the great revival at Hatcher's meeting- 
house in August, 1821. The event was to me fraught with 
momentous consequences. I was slightly advanced in the twen- 
tieth year of my age, and as volatile and as full of delusive hopes 
as any stripling in the community. On a Saturday afternoon, 
at the house of a neighbor, I became acquainted with Daniel 
Witt, a few months my senior, but in appearance much my 
junior. A slight intercourse satisfied us that our views, tastes, 
and aims were congenial, and gave birth to a friendship and 
intimacy which, till the time of his death — a period of fifty 
years — knew no abatement, and scarcely admitted of any in- 
crease. Sunday morning we rode together to church. In all 
my life I had never been more volatile or more set on amuse- 
ment and mischief. I need not repeat the account of the 
meeting, elsewhere given. Witt and myself sat together. 
Both became impressed about the same time, and apparently 
in the same degree, by such preaching as we had often heard 
without concern. A solemn, deep, and pervasive feeling was 
produced in the large assembly. The services were continued 
till late in the afternoon. When I raised my head and opened 
my eyes I was astonished to find that all the congregation, ex- 
cepting a few of my friends, were gone. Even my new com- 
panion, Witt, having a dozen miles to travel to his home, had 
left an hour or two before. 

My purpose to become a Christian was aow fixed. From 
my very childhood I had been ambitious to excel. With me 
it was a settled aim never to follow if I could lead. My natu- 
ral temperament had its share in shaping my resolution to be- 
come a Christian. It was not merely my purpose to enter into 
the kingdom of heaven, but to outstrip all my associates in the 



48 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

celestial race. I engaged in the execution of my purpose in a 
thoroughly earnest and a thoroughly self-sufficient spirit. My 
subsequent course was in full harmony with my resolution. I 
forsook all known sins, did not indulge myself in a smile, with- 
drew from all society except religious, thought of nothing but 
my salvation, and mingled prayer with, almost every waking 
breath. My aim was to become good enough for Christ to 
receive me. 

My experience antedates the commencement of protracted 
meetings; but, in seasons of revival, meetings, especially night 
meetings at private houses, were greatly increased in number. 
I attended all those within my reach, if my engagements would 
permit. A short time after the memorable meeting at Hatcher's 
meeting-house there was an appointment for a night service 
in the neighborhood of my abode. There was a crowded 
house. Of the sermon I recollect nothing. At the close of it 
the minister said: " If any one present desires prayer, let him 
manifest it, and I will pray for him. ' ' It was the first time I had 
ever heard such a proposal made. Had he requested those 
who desired prayer to rise, kneel, or occupy a particular seat, 
I should have had no difficulty in complying with the request, 
for I did most fervently desire that prayer should be offered for 
me, and I was not ashamed to acknowledge it. The preacher, 
however, asked that any one wishing prayer should manifest 
his wish. I could think of but one way of manifesting it, and 
that was by publicly requesting him to pray for me. It was 
a fearful task. I was unused to speaking in public, and was in 
the presence of my companions, among whom I had been a 
leader in amusements and in mischief. How could I ask for 
prayer ? It was an urgent case. My soul was in peril. In all 
my life I have never had a greater conflict between a sense of 
duty and a feeling of timidity. The struggle was short. In a 
few moments I said distinctly : ' ' Pray for me ! " I have said 
many things since which I have had cause to regret, but I have 
never been sorry that I made that request. The minister, after 
a slight delay, said: " Is there only one sinner in the congre- 
gation who desires prayer? " Instantly, and as by a common 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 49 

impulse, the assembly rushed around the spot where I was sit- 
ting, fell on their knees, and broke forth into sobs and lamenta- 
tions. 

At once I was assailed by a most painful temptation. I had 
alone gone through the fierce conflict of asking for prayer, and 
now its benefits were to be divided between so many that I 
should derive but small advantage from it. I was sadly out of 
humor. My heart, that had been tender, instantly became 
hard and resentful. My tears that had flowed copiously were 
arrested, and I was utterly unfitted for the solemn service in 
which I was engaged. I left the house with far less hope of 
salvation than I had when I entered it. 

A few weeks later another night meeting was appointed at 
the same place. I resolved, if possible, to be ready for con- 
version by that time. In view of the period that I had been 
seeking deliverance from my sins, the many prayers I had 
offered, the many tears I had shed, and my undeviating dili- 
gence in efforts to secure my salvation, I concluded that the 
hour of my conversion must be near. I attended the meeting 
with high hope, almost confident that I should find relief ; but 
I was doomed to a sore disappointment. The meeting was 
crowded, and the religious excitement was intense. Among 
the inquirers was a rough, uncouth, and ignorant lad, named 
Bill Carter. Occupying a prominent position, he opened wide 
his mouth and roared like a lion. The scene was indescribably 
ludicrous, and, in spite of the solemnity of the occasion and 
my deep concern for my salvation, I burst into an uncontrol- 
lable fit of laughter. I quickly left the room, retired to a pri- 
vate place in the yard, and prostrated myself on the earth, 
fearing that I had committed the unpardonable sin. I medi- 
tated on my lost condition and my unaccountable levity, and 
my solemn feelings returned. I confessed my sin, prayed, 
wept, and resolved to be more watchful against levity. As I 
was beginning to think my condition more hopeful, the image 
of Bill Carter, with his mouth spread and his cries deafening 
the congregation, rose before my mind, and the ludicrous scene 
again upset my gravity, and I laughed long and convulsively. 



50 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

I left the meeting, at which I had hoped to be converted, with 
an alarming apprehension that my day of grace had passed. 

I was becoming acquainted with my own heart and my guilt 
before God. In the beginning of my religious exercises my 
heart was quite tender. I felt deeply and wept frequently and 
profusely. Soon, however, my heart seemed to grow as cold 
as ice and as hard as flint. Nothing was capable of moving 
it. I desired to weep, because I confounded weeping and re- 
pentance. To move my heart and draw forth my tears, I 
meditated on the purity, majesty, and goodness of God, the 
evil of sin, the solemnity of death, the terribleness of a future 
judgment, the joys of heaven, the woes of perdition, and the 
sufferings of the Son of God; but none of these things moved 
me. Nor was this all. I found in my heart evils of whose 
existence I had not dreamed. I discovered truly that it was 
deceitful above all things. Deceit mingled with my confessions 
of sin, my prayers, and my tears. I could not get rid of it. 
It haunted me like a ghost. I seemed to be aiming to deceive 
not only my fellow-men, but God. I drew nigh to him with 
my mouth, and honored him with my lips, while my heart was 
far from him. I offered him sacrifices which I knew he would 
not and could not receive. 

Nor was this the worst. In spite of all my efforts to prevent 
it, the most corrupt and blasphemous thoughts w T ould nestle in 
my bosom. They were such as I had no recollection of having 
had before, such as I dared not to reveal to my most intimate 
friend, and such as could find a lodgment only in a depraved 
heart. These evil thoughts, sad to say, haunted me most 
when I attempted to pray, or to read and study the word of 
God. The proofs of my depravity cured me of my self- 
righteousness. I despaired of salvation by my own works. 
Indeed, after weeks of anxiety, watchfulness, prayer, and 
mourning, I seemed to be much farther from salvation than I 
was at the first. All hope of making myself worthy for Christ 
to receive me died within me. 

About this time, hearing of the conversion of a young female 
friend, who was awakened some weeks after I was, it seemed a 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 51 

reasonable conclusion that I had missed the road to heaven. 
The farther I travelled the more gloomy seemed to be the 
prospect of reaching the end of my journey. My ambitious 
purpose of outstripping my companions in the celestial race 
was not only abandoned, but remembered with shame. Who- 
ever would might enter into the kingdom: if I could only be 
the least and the last to enter it, I should enjoy a privilege 
infinitely beyond my merit, and have cause for unspeakable 
and everlasting gratitude. 



XL 

MY EXPERIENCE.— Continued. 

ABOUT two months after the memorable meeting at Hatch- 
er' s meeting-house I attended a night meeting in a private 
house near the same place. My recollections of the meeting are 
limited entirely to my own exercises. A song was sung, which 
I do not remember to have heard before or since. It was poor 
poetry, and, no doubt, poorly sung, but it made an indelible 
impression on my mind. I can remember but a part of a single 
stanza. It is this: 

' ' Come, all you tender-hearted Christians, 
Oh, come and help me for to mourn, 
To see the Son of God a-bleeding, 
And his precious body torn." 

The words arrested my attention and turned my mind into a 
new train of thought. Is it possible, I inquired, that the Son 
of God suffered and died for such a corrupt and guilty creature 
as I am ? The grace appeared too great. I was utterly unde- 
serving such favor. It seemed a pity that so great a sinner as 
I should be the recipient of so rich a blessing. While I medi- 
tated on the subject, my heart, long cold and insensible, was 
dissolved in unfeigned sorrow — sorrow that I had sinned against 
Christ, so great, so good, and so condescending — and my eyes, 
for weeks unused to weeping, became fountains of tears. I 
had no further controversy with God. He was infinitely wise, 
pure, and kind, and worthy of my supreme confidence, rever- 
ence, and love. His law was holy, just, and good, and should 
be obeyed by every intelligent creature. Sin was a wrong, a 
folly, and a mischief, calling for sorrow and reformation. 

One point was settled — so far as aught could be settled by a 
frail creature like myself— I would sin no more, if watchfulness, 
prayer, and an earnest purpose could preserve me from sinning. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 52 

Whether I should be saved was doubtful; but if my fearful 
doom were sealed, I would endeavor not to aggravate it by 
multiplying my transgressions and augmenting my guilt. If I 
should be saved, through God's infinite mercy, of all the race 
that fell or all the heavenly host, I should have the greatest 
cause for gratitude and praise. I left the meeting in a very 
different state of mind from that in which I entered it. I did 
not suppose that I was converted — I feared that I should never 
be — but there was sweetness in my tears, and my sorrows were 
soothing and led me to suppose that my condition was not ab- 
solutely hopeless. 

Two or three days after this time I attended a night meeting 
fifteen or twenty miles from my home, at the foot of the south- 
ern slope of the Blue Ridge, near the point at which it is now 
crossed by the Virginia and Tennessee railroad. Of this meet- 
ing, as of the preceding, I remember nothing but what occurred 
in my own breast. The preaching, the praying, and the sing- 
ing were all doubtless good, but my thoughts were concentrated 
on my own unfortunate condition. As instructed by one of my 
religious guides, the Rev. William Leftwich, I had- often at- 
tempted to adopt the words of the father of the demoniac child : 
" Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief." I dared not utter 
the words. I feared that it would be hypocrisy, and augment 
my guilt, if I should repeat them. I would hardly speak ex- 
travagantly if I should say that I made a thousand unsuccessful 
attempts to utter them. The. sentence invariably changed in 
my lips to, "Lord, I would believe; help thou my unbelief." 
On this night, in the midst of the religious services, but entirely 
independent of them, it seemed to me that I could heartily 
adopt the language of the afflicted father. Mentally I called 
over the words: "Lord, I believe," &c. Instantly my con- 
science smote me. I feared that I did not believe, and my 
words were deceitful. If that were believing, there had been 
no need for the long and painful conflict through which I had 
passed. I might as well and as easily have believed at first. 
This certainly was not the kind of faith which I had been ex- 
pecting and endeavoring to exercise. After all my doubts and 



54 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

reasoning, the impression came over me that I did believe, and 
I repeated the words with emphasis: " Lord, I do believe; help 
thou my unbelief. ' ' The burden of guilt and anxiety which I 
had borne so long instantly departed. My mind was in a calm, 
pleasing frame, which to me was inexplicable, and which I was 
not careful to analyze. 

For several months my sleep had been disturbed and un- 
comfortable, but that night I slept as if I had been in paradise. 
No wave of trouble rolled across my peaceful breast. In the 
morning I arose early, greatly refreshed, and walked out to 
enjoy the balmy air and gaze on the surrounding scenery. 
The sun rose in cloudless splendor. Never before had he 
seemed so bright and beautiful. He was radiant with the un- 
created glories of his Maker. His rising beams, caught first 
by the mountain tops, gradually descended into the valleys, 
clothing the autumnal forests with a golden hue. The scenery 
was naturally lovely and sublime; but such mountains, valleys, 
and forests I had never seen before. All nature seemed to 
proclaim the wisdom, power, and goodness of God. The 
mountains and the hills, the brooks and the vales, broke forth 
in songs of praise to their Creator, and all the trees of the 
forests clapped their hands for joy. Before I was aware, I had 
joined the rapturous anthem. My heart was overflowing with 
gratitude, love, and joy, and longed to give utterance to its 
emotions. My conscience told me that I was a poor, guilty, 
condemned sinner, and had no right to praise God; but my 
feelings triumphed over its remonstrances. Whatever might 
be my doom, I resolved to praise him for past mercies and that 
I was not then in perdition, whither I had so long deserved to 
be sent. 

I strolled to a retired spot, at the head of a ravine, where I 
might engage in secret prayer. I had unanticipated freedom 
in the exercise. Till that hour I had never offered a petition 
for any being but myself. That morning I prayed for my 
parents, my brother and sisters, my remoter kindred, my 
friends, and I continued to extend the circle of my intercession 
until it comprehended the whole world. My prayer was a 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 55 

mystery to me. I had intended to pray, as I had ever before 
done, simply for myself; but my feelings had borne me quite 
beyond the limit prescribed by my judgment. 

As I was returning to the house, where I had been hospitably 
entertained, no little perplexed about my new, strange, and 
inexplicable emotions, I met Elder Harris, my venerable reli- 
gious instructor, who was staying with me in the same family. 
He kindly inquired after my religious condition. I told him, 
as well as I could, the exercises of my mind, as stated above. 
"You are converted," said he. This was a revelation to me. 
I had not even suspected that I was converted. I had hoped 
that my exercises were favorable and might lead on to conver- 
sion, but I had not experienced such a conversion as I had 
heard described, or as I had been seeking. I had heard no 
voice, seen no light, felt no shock, and had no strange mani- 
festation. I was willing, aye, and resolved, to forsake my sins 
and serve Christ; but conversion must be something more 
wonderful than this. Elder Harris commenced and related to 
me his experience. It bore a striking resemblance to my own. 
Of the genuineness of his conversion I had no doubt. As my 
exercises bore a strong likeness to his, I could but cherish the 
hope that I might be a subject of renewing grace. The chief 
difficulty I found in accepting this conclusion was in my utter 
unworthiness of a blessing so glorious. I cannot better express 
my bewilderment than in the language of one of Watts' excel- 
lent hymns: 

"When God revealed his gracious name, 
And changed my mournful state, 
My rapture seemed a pleasing dream, 
The grace appeared so great." 

In the uncertainty of my condition, I resolved to conceal 
from my friends the dim and questionable hope which I had 
found, but the resolution was not easily carried into effect. For 
months my face had been covered with a cloud which no smile, 
except in some unguarded moment, had been permitted to 
brighten. To preserve the gloom of my countenance was im- 
possible. The gratitude, hope, and joy of my heart broke out 



56 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

in smiles and tears as I met the pious friends who had so long 
sympathized with me and prayed for me. I did not need to 
tell them that my burden had been removed, and that the dark 
night of conviction had been succeeded by the cheering dawn 
of hope. The tearful eye and the warm grasp of the hand 
told the story more eloquently than words could have done. 

More than half a century has passed since I had the experi- 
ence that I have imperfectly related, and the reader may desire 
to know my estimate of it after the studies, observations, 
and trials of a long life, and I will cheerfully gratify the desire. 
Much of my experience was circumstantial and not essential; 
some things which then seemed important I have learned are 
of little value, and some things appear now to be of greater 
consequence than they did then; but in its chief elements I 
deem it to be sound and evangelical. At any rate I would not 
exchange it, with the influence it has had on me, and through 
me on others, for all the wealth and all the honors of the world. 
Conviction of sin, godly sorrow, reformation, despair of salva- 
tion by works, trust in Christ, love to him, joy in the Holy 
Ghost — in short, an experience which comprehends the strug- 
gles of a soul in passing from death unto life — are indispensable 
to the existence of genuine piety and a reasonable hope of 
eternal life. 



XII. 

MY ENTRANCE INTO THE MINISTR X 

I DO not remember when I first began to preach. In my 
boyhood I was accustomed to repeat, at the handles of my 
plow, the sermon on Monday, with all its intonations, which I 
had heard on Sunday. This I did, not from any special fond- 
ness for preaching, or any expectation that I should become a 
preacher, but merely because, it was the most pleasant intel- 
lectual exercise within my reach. Having access to few books 
suited to interest and improve my mind, I was glad to repeat, 
as an amusement, such sermons as I heard. 

Having made a profession of faith in Christ, I had no hesi- 
tancy in deciding on the manner of my baptism. When I was 
a small boy I learned that there was a controversy between 
Baptists and Pedobaptists concerning the mode of its adminis- 
tration. Just as I was learning to read in the New Testament 
I came to the account of the baptism of the Ethiopian treasu- 
rer, in the Acts of the Apostles. I read it with amazement. In 
my simplicity I supposed that it had never been discovered 
by the disputants on baptism. This passage, I thought, must 
surety end the controversy. I ran to my mother, in great ex- 
citement, saying : ' ' Ma, the Baptists are right ; I have found a 
place which shows that they are right." From that day to 
this I have never doubted that immersion was the primitive 
baptism. On the first Lord's-day of December, 1821, I was 
baptized by Elder William Harris in the north fork of Otter 
river, near the place of my abode. My first religious address 
was delivered on the bank of the stream, immediately on my 
emerging from it. It was impulsive, unpremeditated, and 
without method; but it was earnest, and impressed, by its nov- 
elty, if nothing else, my neighbors and companions. Had I 
been wiser, it had probably not been delivered ; but, timely or 
untimely, it was the beginning of my ministry. 



58 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

During the winter I was several times invited to speak in 
prayer-meetings and at the close of sermons, and I performed 
the service without embarrassment, and seemingly to the accept- 
ance of my hearers. 

I was called more formally to the ministry by my venerated 
pastor on the night of the 15th of January, 1822. A meeting 
had been appointed at a Mr. Lockett's, in the gorge between the 
Flat Top and Suck mountains. The congregation attending was 
small, and composed of plain, uncritical mountaineers. I had 
no more expectation of preaching than of a visit to the moon, 
when my excellent father in the gospel said tome: " You must 
preach to-night." I hesitated, but he insisted; and I, having 
boundless confidence in his piety and wisdom, consented to 
perform the service. After an experience in the ministry of 
more than half a century, I should be very reluctant now to 
preach without more time for preparation; but in fifteen min- 
utes after I was called to the ministry I entered on its duties. 
I selected for my text II Cor. vi: 2: "Behold, now is the ac- 
cepted time; behold now is the day of salvation." My ser- 
mon was about thirty minutes long, delivered with composure, 
without much feeling, and certainly with little method or force. 
I was neither elated nor depressed by it. It seemed to be such 
an effort as might reasonably be expected from one so illiterate 
and inexperienced as I was. 

The next day a meeting was to be held at Mr. Palmer's, a 
few miles from the place of my first sermon, and in a more 
populous neighborhood. My reverend bishop ordered that I 
should preach again, which I was not loth to do. The morn- 
ing I spent in earnest preparation for the service. I read the 
Scriptures, prayed, studied, and came to the work with a pro- 
found sense of my weakness and unworthiness. On reaching 
the place of preaching I found a large congregation, composed 
chiefly of my acquaintances and friends, and among them my 
mother, not then a professor of religion. I was appalled at the 
prospect of preaching before such an audience, but I had pro- 
ceeded too far to retrace my steps. I took for my text II Cor. 
viii : 9 : " For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 59 

that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, 
that ye through his. poverty might be rich." No doubt I have 
preached many a sermon more methodical, more lucid in style, 
more original in thought, and less faulty in taste; but I seri- 
ously question whether I have ever delivered one better suited 
to interest, impress, and profit a plain audience. It was heard 
with unwavering attention and many tears. 

The sermon was to me the occasion of a great temptation 
and a mortifying failure. Some of my indiscreet friends spoke 
to me in terms of high praise of it. They might well have 
spared themselves the trouble. My own heart assured me that 
I had preached a wonderful discourse. On this assumption I 
reasoned, as I judged, most logically. If from my first to my 
second discourse I had made such surprising progress, to what 
rapturous heights I must soar in my third sermon, That night 
there was to be a meeting at the house of the pastor, near 
Liberty, where I was particulary anxious to acquit myself cred- 
itably. It was decided that I should preach again, but having 
succeeded so well in the morning I dismissed all care on the 
subject, supposing that I would only have to stand up and open 
my mouth and thoughts and words pertinent to the occasion 
would flow freely. 

The congregation was full, and it was arranged to have two 
sermons. The first was preached by Rev. P. P. Smith, of 
Buckingham county, a nephew of Elder Harris. I was to fol- 
low. My text was Psalm cxlvi : 8 : " The Lord openeth the 
eyes of the blind: the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down: 
the Lord loveth the righteous. ' ' I stood, but my eyes were 
not opened; I opened my mouth, but words did not flow. I 
made a desperate effort to speak, and continued to babble six 
or eight minutes, and then took my seat in utter confusion and 
deep mortification. I would gladly have sunk beneath the 
floor, or concealed myself in an auger hole, had it been possi- 
ble; but there I sat exposed to the view of all the congrega- 
tion, none of whom could have had a stronger conviction of 
my stupidity than I had myself. My ministry, as I supposed, 
had come to an early and inglorious end. I had become a 



60 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

wiser, if not a better man. From that hour to this I have 
never dreamed that religious knowledge is gained in arithmeti- 
cal progression. 

The next day I was again persuaded to try my gift at preach- 
ing in another neighborhood. I acceded to the request the 
more readily to redeem myself from the disgrace incurred by 
the failure of the preceding night. I was cured, at least for a 
time, of my self-confidence, and entered on the service with 
painful anxiety and trembling in every joint. My success was 
such as to soothe my shame for the past failure and inspire me 
with hope for the future. 

I continued to preach from time to time, as opportunities 
offered, sometimes with freedom and pleasure, and not unfre- 
quently with confusion and shame. I glided into the ministry 
without carefully inquiring whether I had been divinely called 
to it. After some months my mind became quite anxious on 
the subject. I feared that I had run before I was called. My 
call, if call I had, seemed to differ widely from that of many 
of the old preachers. They represented, or seemed to repre- 
sent, that they had been constrained to enter the ministry 
sorely against their wills. The words of the apostles were 
often on their lips: " Necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe is 
unto me, if I preach not the gospel!" Unfortunately for me, 
as I supposed, I had a wish to preach the gospel. Of all en- 
joyments, preaching seemed to me to be the most desirable 
and the most honorable. I preferred being a preacher — poor, 
despised, and persecuted — to being a king or an emperor. I 
might have found in the context of the oft-quoted scripture a 
corrective of my error. The apostle adds to the threatened 
woe of failing to preach the gospel the promised reward of 
preaching it cheerfully: "If I do this thing [preach the gospel] 
willingly, I have a reward. ' ' Neglecting to examine the passage 
in its connection, I missed the instruction which it contained. 
It was several years before my mind was entirely relieved of 
its doubts and anxieties by the words of Paul: " If any man 
desire the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work." If a 
desire for the episcopal office was a qualification for it, I cer- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 61 

tainly had that. I dared not affirm that my desire was free 
from selfish and worldly considerations, but of its sincerity and 
earnestness, and that it originated in scriptural views of the 
duties and design of the office, I had no question. From the 
hour that I discerned the bearing of that text on the subject I 
have had no more doubt of my call to the ministry than I have 
had of the genuineness of my piety. 



XIII. 

MY EARL Y LABORS IN THE MINISTR Y 

AS I glided into the ministry without design, so I pursued 
it for several years without any definite plan. I had no 
pastorate, no prescribed field of labor, no means of support, 
no earthly guide, no 'purpose concerning the future but to do 
good as I found opportunity, and was drifted along by the cur- 
rent of events. My young friend, Daniel Witt, commenced 
preaching in a few weeks after I did He was a little over, and 
I was a little under, twenty years old. He had. however, 
greatly the advantage of me in appearance. He was low, 
slender, beardless, and of boyish appearance ; I was tall, slim, 
gawky, and seemingly older than I really was. His educa- 
tional advantages had been slightly better than mine, and he 
had been more favored in home opportunities for acquiring 
religious knowledge than I had been. Possessing a fine mem- 
orr. an easy elocution, and a plaintive voice, his sermons began 
at once to attract attention. I can hardly err in saying that in 
eighteen months he became one of the most popular preachers 
in the State. He was not the most learned, the most profound, 
the most instructive, or the most impressive preacher ; but, in 
view of his youthfulness, fluency, and pathos, none attracted 
larger audiences or were heard with deeper interest. He was 
unquestionably a more popular preacher than I, though I may 
be excused in saying that there were persons who judged that 
in originality of thought, logical acumen, and the power, under 
favorable circumstances, of moving the passions of an audience. 
I was his equal ; and in this opinion, it is proper to say, he 
always concurred. There was no rivalry between us. He re- 
joiced in my success as I rejoiced in his. We were almost con- 
stantly together, and of us it might be said, as pertinently as 
of the primitive disciples, that we ' ' had all things common. ' ' 
We had a common stock of knowledge — quite meagre ; a 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 63 

common sermon — which we diversified with different texts, and 
with fresh arguments and illustrations, as we could find them ; 
and a common purse — which was never bloated with supplies. 
Dressed in homespun clothes — the common apparel of the 
time — with steeds neither fine nor pampered, and saddlebags 
containing our entire wardrobe, we commenced our humble 
labors. 

For several months our preaching was confined to our native 
county, and chiefly to its southwestern border. By degrees, 
and as doors of usefulness were opened to us, our labors were 
extended into the counties of Franklin, Pittsylvania, Henry, 
Botetourt, Campbell, and Amherst. Everywhere we received 
a hearty welcome, were met by large congregations, heard 
with deep interest, and treated with great hospitality and kind- 
ness. Several causes contributed to augment our audiences. 
The revival, which commenced in Bedford, had spread, gradu- 
ally but steadily, into the adjoining counties. In many neigh- 
borhoods there was a pervading interest in the subject of reli- 
gion. There was a general desire to hear the gospel preached, 
and any minister, of any name, could draw a good congrega- 
tion on any day of the week. The juvenility of Witt and 
myself added greatly to the attractiveness of our ministry. In 
every place our fame, if I may use so grand a term to express 
our notoriety, preceded us, and lost nothing in its progress. 
It was represented that two Bedford plowboys had suddenly 
entered the ministry and were turning the world upside down. 
At that time and in that region young preachers were a great 
rarity, and excited almost as much interest as a dancing bear, 
and an interest of the same kind. To all these considerations I 
may add, as the result of my matured judgment, that the inex- 
perienced lads preached with rather remarkable freedom, force, 
and fervency. Account for it as we may, few houses would 
hold their congregations, even on week days, and they were 
compelled to deliver their message in groves and under arbors 
prepared, in some cases, for the purpose. The night meetings 
were usually held in private houses, which, in most cases, 
could not contain the congregations. As a remarkable speci- 



U THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

men of these meetings, I furnish an account of it from my Life 
of Dr. Witt, pp. 101-103 : 

' ' When Witt and myself first went into Franklin county we 
had an appointment to preach at the house of Mr. Aquila 
Divers. It was a sparsely-settled neighborhood, but the news 
had been widely spread that two boys from Bedford would 
preach. The facts, as is usual in such cases, had been greatly 
exaggerated. An intense curiosity to see and hear the juvenile 
strangers had been excited, and the people nocked from all the 
surrounding region to the meeting. There were probably five 
hundred persons in attendance. The house and yard were 
filled with a plain, rustic, wide-awake night congregation. 
Witt preached. He felt deeply the importance and responsi- 
bility of the occasion, and laid off his coat and rolled up his 
sleeves, as one intent on business. This may seem strange to 
one accustomed to the fastidiousness of the present day ; but 
it was nothing unusual at that time and in .that region. I often 
saw ministers of piety, age, dignity, and reputation preaching 
in hot weather in their shirt sleeves. I must think that the 
custom is more rational and defensible than many of the fashions 
and ceremonies which accompany the preaching of the word 
in the present period. Witt removed his coat, not from vanity 
or affectation, but for comfort and convenience. Its removal 
meant earnestness and labor. Nor was there any disappoint- 
ment in the case. I have forgotten the text and the sermon, 
but the effect of the service I well remember. When the dis- 
course was ended there were suppressed weeping and sobbing 
throughout the audience, in the house and in the yard. It was 
the commencement of a revival, not like some modern revivals, 
that pass away as the morning dew, but it spread far and wide, 
continued for months,- and brought hundreds into the fold of 
Christ. No doubt but that to this day traces of that sermon 
may be seen in the county of Franklin." 

Our mode of preaching, as was common at that time, was 
to have a series of appointments, day and night, from place to 
place, rarely spending more than a day in a neighborhood. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 65 

We would have two sermons in the day and one at night, 
ordinarily alternating the service. The one who preached first 
in the day had usually great advantage over the other. If he 
ha'd freedom in the service he reaped our whole theological 
field, and left but meagre gleanings for the other. In time, 
however, we so increased our stock of theological knowledge 
that the preacher of the second sermon was not much incom- 
moded by the wide range of remarks in the first. Had the 
present method of conducting protracted meetings been known 
to us our usefulness, I judge, might have been greatly in- 
creased. 

Of the fruits of our desultory labors it is impossible to make 
any accurate estimate. Many, I know, professed conversion 
under our ministry. Large additions were made to the 
churches by the labors of their pastors, in which the religious 
awakening seemed to be the result of our ministrations. I may 
overestimate these effects. I give the impressions of my young, 
ardent, inexperienced mind, which the sober judgment of age 
may not fully correct. Some years ago I visited a place where 
in my boyhood I resided and played. There were the houses, 
fields, hills, roads, and streams which I remembered after long 
years of absence ; but how strangely diminished in size ! A 
similar change might occur in the seeming importance of the 
events of my early ministry, were it possible for me to return 
to them with the judgment which time, observation, and expe- 
rience have given me. 

I must close this bright chapter with a gloomy tale. Soon 
after Witt and myself labored in Franklin and the adjoining 
counties the strife in the Baptist denomination concerning mis- 
sions commenced. The ministers in that region generally took 
the anti-mission side. Many of them were good men, of nar- 
row views and scanty information. They were apprehensive 
that missionary efforts would take the work of human salvation 
out of God's hands and transfer all its glory to men, not con- 
sidering that the same objection, and with equal force, or 
rather inconclusiveness, might be urged against all means em- 
ployed for the salvation of sinners. Most of the churches in 



66 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Franklin and Henry counties withdrew from the Strawberry 
Association, and organized the Pig River Association, a body 
most earnestly and successfully devoted to doing nothing. 
When Witt and myself labored in that region Baptists were 
numerous, with a cheering prospect before them ; but under 
the withering influence of anti-mission, antinomian views, their 
progress has been greatly hindered, if indeed their number and 
efficiency have not been decidedly diminished. 



XIV. 

SLA VER Y. 

I WAS born and brought up in the midst of slavery. Slaves 
were my nurses and the companions of my childhood and 
youth. To many of them I formed a strong and enduring 
attachment. Of the system of slavery my early impressions 
were not favorable. There were families in my neighborhood 
and in the regions around who, according to common report, 
treated their slaves with great severity. They were poorly fed, 
thinly clothed, hardly worked, cruelly chastised for slight or 
imaginary offenses, and, in some cases, murdered. These re- 
ports I fully believed, and have since seen no cause to change 
my opinion. This treatment of slaves was condemned by 
public opinion, but no measures were adopted for its cor- 
rection. The blood in my young veins was made to boil by 
the recital of the barbarity practiced on helpless slaves, and by 
a few instances of cruelty which came under my notice. Noth- 
ing now prevents me from naming some of the families noted 
for their inhumanity to slaves, and holding them up as deserv- 
ing universal scorn, but an unwillingness to wound the feelings 
of their descendants, who, it is to be hoped, are of a different 
temper from their ancestors. 

I grew up with a determination never to own a slave. 
Whether slavery was right or wrong, was a question which I 
did not consider. The management of slaves was attended with 
so much responsibility, care, and trouble that I was resolved not 
to be involved in it. They could not be profitably governed 
without firm authority, and its exercise was uncongenial with 
my taste and habits. 

When I grew to manhood, and removed to Eastern Virginia, 
I found that slaves were generally treated with greater care and 
lenity than in the tobacco -growing regions, where their labors 
were profitable. They were, with few exceptions, amply fed, 



68 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

comfortably clothed, well housed, not overtaxed in labor, and 
duly cared for in sickness and old age. Many masters seemed 
fully impressed with their religious obligations to their slaves, 
and aimed by their instructions, example, and prayers to lead 
them in the way of righteousness. In not a few families the 
relations between the masters and their families, on the one 
hand, and the slaves, on the other, were exceedingly pleasant. 
One knew not whether more to admire the condescension and 
kindness of the whites, or the affection and tractableness of the 
negroes. While this difference in the treatment of slaves modi- 
fied, in some measure, my views of slavery, it in nowise weak- 
ened my determination never to own one. 

My purpose was unchanged until I became engaged to marry 
a lady who held slaves. By our marriage, I would become the 
legal owner of them. I informed her of my determination never 
to possess slaves, and my wish that she should get rid of hers 
before our marriage. She stated that her views and feelings 
regarding slavery were in perfect accord with my own. She 
had inherited her slaves; they were attached to her, dependent 
on her for protection, and some of them for support; she did 
not know how to get rid of them, but would be willing, after 
our marriage, that I should dispose of them as I might think 
proper. I could ask nothing more. We were married, and I 
became the legal owner of slaves. What I should do with them 
then became a practical question. I could not free them, for the 
laws of the State forbade it. If they had not forbidden it, the 
slaves in my possession were in no condition to support them- 
selves. It was simple cruelty to free a mother with dependent 
children. Observation, too, had satisfied me that the free ne- 
groes were, in general, in a worse condition than the slaves. 
The manumission of my slaves to remain in the State was not 
to be thought of. Should I send them to Liberia ? Some of 
them were in a condition, but none of them desired, to go. If 
sent, they must be forced to leave their wives and children, be- 
longing to other masters, to dwell in a strange land. Besides, 
to send away the men who could support themselves and aid 
in the support of others, and retain the women and children to 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 69 

be supported by my own labors, was stretching my humanity 
quite beyond its power of endurance. They could not go to 
Africa. The same insuperable difficulties lay in the way of 
sending them to the North. Parents and children, husbands 
and wives, must be separated, and many of them sent forth to 
certain starvation, unless they should find charitable hands to 
support them. The only practicable method of getting rid of 
them was to sell them or give them away. Against both these 
methods they earnestly protested, and my heart revolted. 
After careful inquiry, and, I trust, an honest desire to know 
my duty, I came to the undoubting conclusion that it was not 
only allowable for me, but my solemn obligation, to hold and 
rule them, for their interest and for my own, as best I could. 
I should have been recreant to my duty and guilty of inhuman- 
ity if, under the circumstances, I had not assumed the relation 
of master and endeavored to meet the responsibilities arising 
from it. 

At that period there was a prevalent opinion in Virginia not 
that slavery was in all cases sinful, but that the system imposed 
great responsibilities, and was fraught with many evils, eco- 
nomical, social, political, and moral, and should as soon as possi- 
ble be abolished. The subject was earnestly and ably discussed 
in the Convention of 1829-30, that revised the Constitution 
of Virginia. The more the matter was examined, the more 
insuperable seemed the obstacles to the emancipation of the 
slaves. About this time the abolition excitement arose in the 
North. Its results were precisely what might have been ex- 
pected. The advocates of abolition were, with few exceptions, 
little informed on the subject of slavery, with narrow views and 
sectional prejudices, and their doubtful statements, exaggera- 
ted representations, and shallow sophistries were far better 
suited to awaken resentment than to produce conviction of the 
sinfulness of slavery in the Southern mind. The harshness 
and injustice of their remarks almost entirely prevented the 
circulation of their writings in the South. Nor was this all. 
Southern men discussed the subject of slavery with great clear- 
ness and ability, and their writings were read with avidity, and 



70 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

in a frame of mind favorable to the acceptance of their views. 
The result, as already intimated, was that a marked change in 
public opinion on the subject of slavery took place at the 
South. All doubt as to the lawfulness of the institution, under 
existing circumstances, was banished from the public mind. 
Many went further still, and maintained that it was not only 
lawful, but eminently adapted to secure the highest intellectual 
and social development ; and that it afforded the simplest and 
safest solution of the long-continued and frightful contest be- 
tween capital and labor. The chief fault of the slaveholders 
was that, in their excitement, they became intolerant and over- 
bearing. They would allow no dissent from their views, and 
forbade the discussion of a subject from whose calm and thor- 
ough investigation they had nothing to fear and much to hope. 
It would have been strange if my own views on the subject of 
slavery had not been modified — at least enlarged — by my con- 
stant and unavoidable connection with it. Soon after the com- 
mencement of the abolition controversy, a pamphlet on the 
lawfulness of slavery, written by Rev. Thornton Stringfellow, 
D. D., of Culpeper county, Va., made its appearance. It was 
a plain, logical, and vigorous statement of the scriptural teach- 
ing on the subject. On reading it, I remember remarking that 
the Scriptures were more favorable to slavery than I had been. 
Up to that time I had believed that slavery in the South was 
allowable from the necessity of the case, and that its abolition 
would be fraught with more mischief than good. The pam- 
phlet placed the subject in a new light. Moses, under certain 
limitations, established slavery, with divine authority, in the 
commonwealth of Israel. It could not have been wrong. 
Christ and his apostles lived and labored in countries where 
slavery existed under Roman law ; and though they dared to 
proclaim the most unwelcome truths, and reprove every kind 
of sin, at the peril of their lives, they neither spoke nor wrote a 
word in condemnation of slavery. More still : They pointed 
out the duties of masters and slaves precisely as they did those 
of parents and children, husbands and wives, ruler and sub- 
jects. These facts do not prove that all slavery is right, or 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 71 

that it belongs to the most desirable condition of society, but 
simply that it may, like aristocratic, royal, and imperial forms 
of government, be allowable. It may, under some circum- 
stances, belong to the best order of society that human, or even 
divine, wisdom can devise. Whether African slavery in the 
United States existed under such circumstances, is a question I 
do not propose to discuss; but I think it would be difficult to 
find a solid reason for its justification elsewhere which would 
not lend its full force to the vindication of American slavery. 

Slavery, in this country, has been abolished by the overruling 
providence of God ; and I sincerely rejoice in its abolition. To- 
ward the colored race, whether in slavery or in freedom, I have 
ever cherished the kindest feelings. They have acted well — bet- 
ter than might have been expected — since their liberation. Let 
them enjoy their rights, and have full scope for the development 
of their powers and the improvement of their condition, physi- 
cal, intellectual, and moral. The whites will find it as much to 
their interest as it is the dictate of humanity and their mani- 
fest duty to treat them not only justly, but kindly and gener- 
ously. What will be the results of their sudden and violent 
emancipation, persons living fifty years hence will know better 
than we can now know. 



XV. 

ODDS AND ENDS. 

{RECALL some things in my early years which can be re- 
duced to no method, and I record them, not because they 
are important, but for the amusement of the young and to 
awaken the memories of the old. 

CHILDISH PHILOSOPHY. 

From the earliest period of my recollection my mind was 
given, as I supposed from instinct, to speculating on the nature 
and causes of phenomena which I saw around me. I do not 
know that my thoughts on these subjects differed materially 
from those of other children, but I write some of them to 
afford an opportunity for comparison. 

I early adopted a rain theory. The clouds, I supposed, were 
made of tin, or some similar metal, filled with water and per- 
forated with small holes — after the manner of a watering pot, 
which then I had never seen; each hole was stopped with a 
small peg, to each peg a long string was tied, the great man 
of the skies held every string in his hand, and when he wished 
it to rain he jerked the strings, drew out the pegs, and down 
came the rain. The theory seemed to me to be not only plausi- 
ble, but the only one that could be formed. I was as firmly con- 
vinced of its truth as is Elder John Jasper that ' ' the sun do 
move." How the clouds were filled with water, or how the 
pegs, once drawn from them, were restored to their holes, were 
questions which did not enter into my juvenile philosophy. 

I had quite an early and well-defined system of cosmology. 
The world I believed to be flat, with such inequalities as I ob- 
served on its surface ; and residing in sight of the Peaks of 
Otter, these did not seem to be inconsiderable. I was fully 
convinced, by what appeared to me to be conclusive reasoning, 
that the earth floated on water. It must rest on something ; 
for all my observations satisfied me that nothing could stand 
without a foundation. That the world was supported by water, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 73 

there were two decisive proofs. One was, that by travelling 
a certain distance in any direction the end of the land was 
reached and the water on which it floated was seen ; and the 
other was, that by digging wells in the earth the water on 
which it rested was found. What supported the water was a 
question that never entered my juvenile brain. The intelligent 
reader will perceive the striking resemblance between my 
childish theory and the Hindoo cosmology — that the earth 
rests on the backs of elephants — the elephants stand on tur- 
tles — the turtles swim in water — and below the water there is 
mist down to the bottom. 

One thing greatly surprised me. It was that my father's 
house had happened to be set precisely in the middle of the 
world. That it was, I had the most conclusive evidence. The 
horizon, which I conceived to be the end of the world, was 
equidistant from my home in every direction. I supposed that 
its favorable location was simply accidental, and that no other 
house in all the world occupied a similar position. 

The most incomprehensible mystery to my boyish intellect 
was the shoeing of a horse. For that my philosophy could 
find no satisfactory explanation. I saw that a horse stood 
$rmly on the ground with his four feet. How a shoe could be 
nailed on his foot, while in this position, I could not conceive. 
It seemed equally impossible to perform the operation from 
above or from beneath. I came to the deliberate conclusion 
that the horse's foot was cut off, the shoe nailed on, and the 
foot restored to its place. This theory was the best that I could 
devise, but it did not quite satisfy my mind. It was a mystery 
to me that the operation could be performed without inflicting 
a wound or leaving a scar on the horse. 

The thoughtful reader will be struck with the fact that many 
of the theories, discoveries, and pretensions of the scientists and 
philosophers of past ages were quite as puerile as my childish 
speculations. It has been their chief labor in each successive 
generation to overthrow the theories of their predecessors. 
Many notions popular in past ages seem now to be ridiculous. 
Modern scientists claim to have passed far beyond the ancients 



74 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

in their researches and discoveries. Probably they have ; and 
yet it is not unlikely that the time may come when many of 
their notions, falsely called science, will be regarded as the 
wild conceits of distempered brains. 

PETER BURNS. 

When I was seven years old my father resided at a place 
called the Horse-Shoe, in the county of Montgomery (now Pu- 
laski), as a manager for General John Preston, who is well re- 
membered as a defaulting treasurer of Virginia. He had a 
teacher in his family called Peter Burns. He was an Irishman, 
small of stature, quite advanced in years, who had taught school 
in Richmond, I know not how long nor with what success. 
The late John Valentine, long clerk of the Second Market, 
knew him as a schoolmaster in this city. In the family school 
of General Preston my literary training was unsuccessfully com- 
menced. I remember but a single event in my brief course of 
study, and that made an indelible impression on my mind. 

One morning I was early in the school-room. On reaching 
it, I found there John, a colored boy belonging to General Pres- 
ton, who was being educated with his children. Soon the 
teacher arrived, and it was discovered that a copy-book ha<# 
been scribbled. I was asked if I knew aught about the matter, 
and declared, with perfect sincerity, that I did not. John> 
however, testified that I had scribbled the book. On the testi- 
mony of John I was convicted of the offense, against my tear- 
ful protestations. My condemnation, under the circumstances, 
was a folly and an outrage; but if I had been guilty, the offense 
was trivial. The scratching of a copy-book by a boy seven 
years old, just entering a school, and without any knowledge 
that such an act was criminal, was surely a very venial offense. 
It did not, however, so appear in the eyes of Mr. Burns. He 
made me take off my jacket, and stand with my hands upon 
a bench before me, in a convenient position to receive a flog- 
ging. I do not think that I was much hurt, but I was frightened 
almost to death. So soon as I could make my escape I returned 
home, and never again entered the school of Peter Burns. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 75 

The trial had past, but was not forgotten. I made up my 
mind that if I ever grew to have sufficient strength I would 
chastise Peter Burns. The resolution was formed in my inmost 
soul, and grew with my growth and strengthened with my 
strength. At any time after I reached the age of seventeen 
years until I made a profession of religion, if I had met my 
tyrannical schoolmaster, neither a regard to his age, nor re- 
spect for law, nor reverence for public opinion, would have 
prevented me from inflicting on him personal chastisement. 

Many years ago the old man ended, under I know not what 
circumstances, his earthly career; and I have no motive to form 
a harsh opinion of his conduct. Possibly he thought he was 
doing right, and seeking my interest, in the fright he gave me. 
In that case only his judgment was at fault. In so far as pas- 
sion influenced his judgment, he was morally culpable. I 
judge him not; but I may surely avail myself of the case to 
make a few cautionary remarks. Great care should be taken 
in dealing with children. They are entitled to justice, and 
generally understand what it is. They do not readily forget 
the wrongs they suffer, nor the favors they receive. Mr. Burns 
might more easily have made me his friend than his foe. By 
flagrant injustice, he inspired my heart with a burning resent- 
ment, which grace, I trust, quenched, but of which neither 
time nor grace has effaced the remembrance. School teachers 
are in great danger of acting with rashness and cruelty toward 
their pupils. Not a few instances — more in former than in later 
times — of false judgment and severity exercised by teachers 
toward their defenseless scholars have come to my knowledge. 
I protest against these outrages. Children are thoughtless, 
impulsive, indiscreet, and liable to be perverse; but they should 
be dealt with at least justly. Parents and the managers of 
public schools should see to it that children under their control 
are treated with due tenderness and moderation; and teachers 
should be made to understand that all passionate and unjust 
dealings with children are criminal, and will provoke at least a 
righteous public indignation. 



XVI. 

ODDS AND ENDS— Continued. 

A SPELLING MATCH. 

WHEN I was a lad, probably ten years old, there were two 
rival schools in my neighborhood. The rivalry culmi- 
nated in a " Spelling Bee, ' ' to adopt a modern Americanism, but 
it was then called a spelling match. Reading was taught in 
the schools with no regard to accent or emphasis, and with very 
little to punctuation, and the glibbest reader was deemed the 
best. Composition was an art unknown, and the word would 
have been accounted outlandish in most of the schools. Spell- 
ing was the one branch of learning on which they prided them- 
selves. The schools above alluded to boasted of their attain- 
ments in this popular exercise, each claiming to excel the other. 
Public opinion was divided on the subject, and it was resolved 
to submit the question to the test of experiment. 

Each school selected a champion speller. John Houston 
was the standard-bearer of one school. He was a bright, mod- 
est, promising boy, not far from a dozen years old. I was 
chosen to vindicate the honor of the other school. I was 
larger, but probably not older than John, and certainly was 
not less ambitious to excel than he was. We were, for some 
weeks, carefully trained for our literary contest. All things 
were in readiness for it. 

The schools, situated four or five miles apart, met at an in- 
termediate blacksmith's shop. Under the shade of oaks rude 
seats had been prepared for the accommodation of the schools 
and their friends. Quite an audience was present, as the match 
had excited no little interest in the quiet, rural neighborhood. 
Fortunately for their comfort, the day was calm, bright, and 
pleasant. The boys spelled alternately in the geographical vo- 
cabulary of Noah Webster' s spelling-book. Each school looked 
with confidence for the success of its champion. For some time 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. ' 77 

the race was equal; but John began to misspell words rather 
frequently. I had failed on one or two, and he on six or eight. 
His teacher, gazing at him with an anxious look, said: "John, 
you are falling might' ly behind the stump" — an expression 
then common in that region. It was the language of solicitude, 
and not of reproof; but whatever might have been the interpre- 
tation that John put upon it, his feelings became uncontrolla- 
ble, and he burst into tears and sobs, all the audience sympa- 
thizing in his grief, and none more sincerely than I. This 
ended the spelling match. I had triumphed, but I would have 
more heartily enjoyed my success had it not been associated 
with the deep mortification of my opponent, for whom I had a 
kind regard. More than sixty years have passed since the event, 
and quite half a century since I saw or heard of John Houston. 
He has probably departed from the land of the living; but if he 
is still on earth, it would afford me great pleasure to grasp his 
hand, for I am quite sure, from the excellent qualities of his 
boyhood, that he ripened into a solid, worthy man. 

The spelling match was as far removed from gaming as the 
most ascetic moralist could desire. It was agreed that if John 
won, his teacher would give him a knife; and if I was success- 
ful, my teacher would give me one. In that- day and in that 
region, where so little was contributed to the enjoyment of 
boys, the knife would have been to me a treasure; but I never 
received it. Whether my teacher thought I had not fairly 
won it, or it would be too heavy a draft on his meagre re- 
sources, or his memory was less tenacious than my own, it is 
needless now to inquire. 

FALSE ECONOMY. 

When I was eleven years old my father resided in the town 
of Salem, then Botetourt, now Roanoke county. As a reward 
or a gift, I received a fourpence ha'penny — a small silver coin, 
worth six and a quarter cents, then in general circulation. 
From my childhood I have had greater aptitude for spending 
than for gaining or keeping money. After due consideration, 
I resolved to spend my first fourpence ha'penny for ginger 



78 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

cakes — a kind of sweet bread then sold at musters and other 
public gatherings. An old woman cake-baker resided on the 
suburb of the town. To her house I repaired to invest my 
money. On arriving at the place I inquired of her if she had 
any ginger cakes. She replied that she had none. This was 
a damper. I was disappointed, for I was fond of the cakes, 
and had anticipated much enjoyment in eating them. I was 
balked, but not defeated. The money was of no use to me 
unless I could spend it. As cakes and beer were usually sold 
together, I asked the old woman if she had any beer. She 
answered that she had no beer, but had some cider. For sev- 
eral years I had abstained from the use of distilledliquors, but 
had indulged in drinking cider. I had no special desire for it, 
but as there was no other way of using my money, I requested 
her to let me have fourpence ha'penny worth of cider. The 
old woman soon brought out a quart of it, and I handed her 
my money. On tasting it, I was sorely disappointed. It was 
hard, bitter, and positively nauseous. If my father had had a 
thousand gallons of such cider I should not have drunk a 
spoonful of it. I was, however, in a dilemma. I must either 
drink the cider or lose my money. To drink the cider was 
revolting to my taste, and to lose the money was in violation 
of my economy. After some hesitation my love of money tri- 
umphed over my aversion to hard cider. I resolved to drink 
it, and save the fourpence ha'penny. 

How much of the cider (vinegar more properly) I drank, I 
do not recollect; but I remember that my head became dizzy, 
and I indulged in some rudeness to the cake-baker, which she 
threatened to report to my father. I was not so much intoxi- 
cated as not to know that it would be unpleasant for my condi- 
tion to be known in my family. I returned home, crept cau- 
tiously to my room, and went to bed. At supper time I was 
missing, and my absence caused no little surprise, as I was 
usually present at meals. Search was made for me, and I was 
found in my bed fast asleep. Some time during the night I 
awoke, felt qualmish, went to a window, and got rid of both 
my cider and my fourpence ha'penny. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 79 

My intoxication differed widely from ordinary cases of the 
evil. Usually men get drunk with a knowledge that their 
drunkenness will cost them money: I got drunk simply from a 
desire to save it. Ordinarily persons get drunk for the pleasure 
of indulging their appetite: I got drunk by offering a disgusting 
offense to mine. Most persons who get drunk once repeat the 
offense, and many of them until the vice becomes habitual and 
ruinous. One indulgence in the luxury satisfied me, and from 
that day to this I have carefully eschewed it. Drunkenness is 
not necessarily a sin. A man may be intoxicated by accident, 
through false views, or from deceptive motives, without guilt. 
I have recalled my inebriation with amusement rather than 
penitence, and have recorded it to teach that it is false economy 
to endeavor to save money by eating or drinking what one does 
not need. 

THE WAR OF 1812. 

This conflict commenced when I was ten years old. I have 
a vivid recollection of many events attending it. At its close I 
remembered every battle that had been fought, by land or by 
sea, with the number killed and wounded on both sides. The 
troops from Bedford suffered severely, not from the casualties 
of battle, but from the malaria of Eastern Virginia. At the 
commencement of the war, a noble volunteer company, com- 
manded by Captain Mark Anthony, was marched to Norfolk, 
and at the close of its term of service, if my recollection is ac- 
curate, all except four were either dead or had suffered severely 
from disease. As the militia were drafted, and, from time to 
time, sent into the army, they were decimated by the fevers oi 
the low country. It is due to them to say that they met the 
requisitions on them with promptness and courage, and if there 
was a case of desertion among them I have no recollection 
of it. 

I have introduced this subject to record an event which oc- 
curred at the close of the war. I resided about seven miles 
from the town of Liberty. In that place there was a small can- 
non, by which the patriotic citizens usually announced the vic- 
tories of the American arms. One afternoon there was an un- 



80 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

r 

usual amount of firing. I was sent for by my grandfather, who 
resided near my home, and dispatched on a fleet horse to Lib- 
erty to learn the news. I performed the service with no little 
pleasure. On reaching the town I found the inhabitants fran- 
tic with delight at the intelligence that a peace had been estab- 
lished between the belligerent powers. I lost no time in return- 
ing to bear the tidings of peace, and had the honor to be the 
first to proclaim it along the road to my home. Wherever I 
saw a person in a house, on the road, or in a field, white or col- 
ored, I cried: "Peace ! peace ! peace ! " On approaching my 
grandfather's, where many were on the tiptoe of expectation to 
hear the news, I quickened my horse into full speed, crying at 
the top of my voice: "Peace ! peace ! peace ! " I have made 
many trips, but never so joyful a one as that. Tears of glad- 
ness and loud huzzas attended me all along my route. I had 
the privilege of proclaiming a sudden and unexpected deliver- 
ance from a great national calamity, of which the community 
around me was enduring its full share. 

This event furnishes an illustration of the words of Paul, 
quoted from Isaiah : ' ' How beautiful are the feet of them that 
preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good 
things." The glory of the message is in some measure trans- 
ferred to the messenger. When I bore the glad tidings of 
peace, my garments might have been soiled or rent, and my 
face and feet covered with dust; but who cared for my appear- 
ance? It was overlooked in the joy of the message, or rather 
it derived a beauty from the good news which I brought. Just 
so it is with those who proclaim the gospel. To persons duly 
awake to the evil of sin, the value of the soul, and the precious- 
ness of salvation, there is something attractive in the preacher 
of the gospel. His very feet, covered with perspiration and 
dust, seem beautiful to those who receive from his lips the glad 
news of redeeming mercy. 

I must mention briefly one thing more. The war was fol- 
lowed by a wild and reckless spirit of speculation. Tobacco 
commanded enormous prices, and real estate quadrupled in its 
estimated value. Men who were not worth a dollar were ready 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 81 

to contract debts to the amount of thousands. I remember 
hearing plain, thoughtful farmers predict that Lynchburg would 
become as great a city as London. I know not how many 
towns were named and laid off upon Staunton river, in antici- 
pation that it would become a navigable stream, the lots in 
which were sold at exorbitant prices. In a few years the crash 
came. Stay laws were advocated, debts were repudiated, prop- 
erty sunk to a fourth, or even a less proportion, of its recently 
supposed value. The times were really hard. Creditors and 
debtors, the rich and the poor, suffered alike. It was at least 
ten years before the country recovered from its terrible depres- 
sion. One can be but struck by the resemblance of the conse- 
quences of the war of 1812 to those of the late war. In that 
time, speculation ran higher: in this, the evils have been mag- 
nified by stay and bankrupt laws. In both cases there was a 
fearful demoralization of society, especially in regard to the 
payment of debts; but in the latter case it has been increased 
by unwise legislation. Strange that the lessons of the war of 
1812 should have been forgotten in half a century ! 



XVII. 

ASCETICISM. 

THIS term denotes the practice of ''undue rigor and self- 
denial in religious things." It is an evil peculiar to no 
age and to no form of religion. It has its origin in the desire 
to substitute for moral duties austerities congenial with the car- 
nal mind, or to atone for neglected duties by the performance 
of works of supererogation. It gave birth to monasticism, 
with its multiplied evils, among Roman Catholics. Its mis- 
chiefs, however, are by no means limited to them. There are 
few Christian sects whose views and lives are not, more or less, 
influenced by it. 

In my boyhood days, ascetic notions were quite prevalent 
in all the Christian denominations around me. The Methodists 
were specially strict in their religious discipline. Their female 
members were rigidly forbidden to adorn themselves with jew- 
elry, bows, ribbons, or curls. Their simple style of dress was, 
as I then thought, and as I still think, becoming and beautiful. 
The evil referred to lay not in the simplicity of their dress, but 
in its enforcement as a duty. Men, for drunkenness, dis- 
honesty, or other vices, might be tenderly dealt with and par- 
doned ; but woe to the thoughtless damsel who ventured to 
deck herself with rings, or curls, or plumes, or to engage in 
the giddy dance. Nothing could save her from excommunica- 
tion and disgrace, except the most penitent confession and the 
most solemn promise to abstain in future from these ungodly 
practices. 

Before I reached maturity, a young Methodist preacher of 
respectable family and of fine promise was stationed in the 
town of Lynchburg. A great revival took place under his 
ministry, and many were added to his church. A writer in a 
paper of the town gave a glowing description of the labors 
and success of the young pastor. Among other things which 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 83 

he preached, it was stated that he told the people : ' ' Except 
ye wear your hair straight, ye cannot be saved." Whether 
the remarks of the evangelist were fairly reported, I cannot 
say. This much, however, I may confidently affirm : The 
oracular remark created no surprise, but was rather received 
as a proof of the sanctity and fidelity of the young minister. 
A man so strict in matters of fashion, it was inferred, could 
not be neglectful of "judgment, mercy, and the weightier 
matters of the law. ' ' 

Baptists, less rigorous than Methodists in their notions of 
religious duties, were quite ascetic in their practice and dis- 
cipline. They were lax enough in regard to morals, but 
severely intolerant of what were called worldly pleasures. 
These were from the devil, and led straight to perdition. On 
becoming a Baptist, one was expected to renounce the plea- 
sures of the world — not only dancing, but all games, sports, 
and amusements— and to be grave, avoiding mirth and frivolity. 
This rule was not rigidly enforced, but its observance was 
deemed essential to high Christian character, and peculiarly 
necessary to ministers of the gospel. 

I have stated the ascetic notions of the times mainly for the 
purpose of showing their influence on my own life. In that 
day it was customary for young men to wear their hair curled 
on their foreheads, an adornment secured, in most cases, by 
the use of pomatum. In the commencement of my religious 
course, I combed my hair straight, thus bringing myself within 
the possibility of salvation as taught by the Lynchburg divine. 
My compliance with this rule was easy, as my hair was natu- 
rally straight. All amusements I abandoned at once, and 
without difficulty, as I had little opportunity, and less inclina- 
tion, to indulge in them. There was one duty which I did not 
find it so easy to practice. Laughing was deemed, if not sin- 
ful, at least quite unbecoming for a Christian, and especially a 
preacher. In this view I concurred. Living in a^world filled 
with sin and cursed of God, with thousands passing daily to 
perdition, it appeared to me most inappropriate that I should 
indulge in mirth. This view seemed to be confirmed by the 



84 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

fact that, so far as the Scriptures teach, Jesus wept, but never 
laughed. The duty seemed clear, but its observance was quite 
uncongenial with my temperament. This was vivacious, cheer- 
ful, and strongly inclined to mirth. I resolved, however, to 
maintain my gravity. For a time I succeeded well. Not a 
laugh escaped from my lips, and scarcely a smile lightened 
my countenance. At length, however, some amusing thing 
was said or done that upset my gravity, and my laughter was 
all the more convulsive and vociferous because of the long-con- 
tinued restraint that I had imposed upon it. 

This untimely and sinful outburst of mirth was followed by 
a season of gloom, confession, penitence, tears, prayer, and 
earnest resolution not to be overtaken again with the fault. 
For some time I carefully watched against my besetting sin, 
and maintained an unbroken solemnity of countenance. It 
was not long, however, before, in an unguarded moment, some 
facetious remark or ludicrous event overcame my resolution and 
threw me into a paroxysm of laughter, to be followed by another 
season of humiliation, sorrow, and promised amendment. 

For several years this conflict between my sense of duty and 
my natural temperament was continued. Gradually, however, 
I was led to embrace, as I now judge, sounder views on the 
subject. Laughing is a native instinct of man. It is as natural 
for him to laugh as it is for him to smile, or weep, or move, or 
sleep. "There is," says Solomon, " a time to laugh " — a time 
when it is natural, proper, and commendable to laugh. God 
has not only endowed us with a capacity and tendency to laugh, 
but has surrounded us with scenes and brings us into associa- 
tions adapted to inspire mirth. Laughter is one of the first 
signs of intelligence in infancy, and one of the last exercises of 
healthful humanity. Laughter may be untimely. We may 
laugh when we should weep, or laugh at that which should 
fill us with indignation or with grief. Still, laughing" at a right 
time, at proper objects, and with due restraint, is a harm- 
less, healthful, and virtuous exercise ; and the man who never 
laughs is to be pitied or suspected. I would not number him 
among my friends, or choose him as a companion. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 85 

It may be asked : If Christ never laughed, and he is our ex- 
emplar, what right have we to laugh ? I should not deem this 
question worthy of an answer had I not recently seen it pro- 
pounded in a religious newspaper. Christ did many things not 
recorded by the evangelists. We are not informed that he 
ever smiled, or washed his face, or slept on a bed ; but we can- 
not logically infer that he never did these things, or that it is 
wrong for us to do them. Many things which Christ never did 
we may lawfully do. He never travelled in a railway car, or 
in a steamboat, but that fact furnishes no reason why we should 
not do it. The great underlying principle of all morality and 
of all duty is, that what is not forbidden, expressly or by fair 
implication, is allowable. Where there is no law, there is no 
transgression. 

In fleeing from asceticism, we should be careful not to run 
into licentiousness. Of the two extremes, the latter is the 
worse. Asceticism, in its severest and most rigorous aspects, 
is compatible with sincere piety. The anchorite, who abjures 
all the legitimate pleasures of life, may be an earnest and ac- 
ceptable worshipper of God. His piety is gloomy, morose, 
forbidding, but conscientious and fervent. John the Baptist 
was neither the more nor the less godly because he wore coarse 
garments, and lived on locusts and wild honey. Because, 
however, libertinism is the more dangerous extreme, we need 
not run to the other. God has placed us in a world filled with 
blessings and sources of enjoyment, and he requires, not that 
we should despise or reject them, but that we should accept 
them gratefully, use them temperately, and make them subser- 
vient to our happiness and usefulness. 

Christ, not John the Baptist, is our exemplar. It is an illus- 
trious proof of his divinity that, in his teaching and his exam- 
ple, he steered clear of the austerities of the Pharisees, on the 
one hand, and of the libertinism of the Sadducees on the other. 
He taught a system of morality rational in itself, adapted to 
men of all classes, climes, and ages, free alike from the useless 
burdens of superstition and the pernicious freedom of rational- 
ism. He imposed no needless yoke on his disciples. He for- 



86 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

bade nothing that was good, and required nothing that was 
injurious. To live according to his precepts is the highest 
wisdom, securing to men the greatest immunity from danger 
and the fullest measure of enjoyment, physical, intellectual, 
and religious. 



XVIII. 

MY EARL Y ASS O CIA TES IN THE MINIS TR Y 

IN the course of my Recollections, I have frequently referred 
to Elder William Harris, the pastor by whom I was bap- 
tized and introduced into the ministry. I may reasonably sup- 
pose that the reader desires to become better acquainted with 
him, and if he does not, I can assure him that the Elder is wor- 
thy of his acquaintance. He was. a remarkable man in appear- 
ance, character, gifts, and influence. When I knew him most 
intimately, he was about forty-five years old. He was quite six 
feet high, neither lean nor fat, but well developed, of a yellow 
complexion, and almost entirely beardless. His hair, in the 
latter part of his life, was white, with a yellowish tinge, and 
worn long and hanging over his shoulders. His face bore an 
unmistakable smile of benevolence. His dress was homespun, 
differing neither in texture nor color from that worn by his 
neighbors. The fashion of his coat was peculiar. It had long 
skirts, with deep outside pockets, covered with broad .flaps. 
In one of these the old man always carried a pipe, with the 
stem projecting not less than a foot above the flap. Persons 
inquiring for him on court-days and other public occasions 
were directed to look for the pipe stem, and it never misled 
them. Had Harris appeared in any assembly, a stranger would 
have been apt to inquire: "What tall, venerable-looking man 
is that?" 

The character of Elder Harris was above reproach. A coun- 
tyman, not remarkable for his charitable judgments of men, 
who had known him well for forty years, on being asked if he 
had ever heard any evil report of him, replied with promptness 
and emphasis: "No! and if I had, I should have known that it 
was a lie. ' ' Harris was an impersonation of kindness, honesty, 
and piety, with a slight mixture of humor. 

The Elder was not a great preacher, if greatness is to be 



■88 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

measured by learning, logical acumen, an accurate knowledge 
of the Scriptures, or a vivid imagination. If, however, minis- 
terial greatness is to be estimated by a capacity for usefulness, 
few had a higher claim to it than Elder Harris. Unaffected 
sincerity and earnestness were the chief elements of his power. 
No man ever heard him preach without feeling convinced that 
he was aiming, not to display his knowledge, or to show how 
well he could preach, or to please his hearers, but to save their 
souls. His sincerity beamed in his countenance, trickled in 
tears down his cheeks, modulated his voice, and controlled his 
gestures. 

Of all the preachers we have ever heard, none were less 
promising in the beginning of their sermons than was Elder 
Harris. He preached not from careful preparation, but from 
the impulse of the moment. In the commencement of his dis- 
course his speech was slow and unimpressive, his remarks 
were desultory, and he not unfrequently betrayed a lack of the 
knowledge of the connection of his text, and of its obvious 
meaning. His hearers need not be discouraged, but should 
patiently wait for the coming feast. It may not come at all, 
but it will be likely to come. As he advances, he warms with 
liis subject. His thoughts brighten, his enunciation becomes 
more distinct and emphatic, the tones of his voice glide into an 
indescribable tenderness and pathos, and, before he has been 
preaching an hour, you conclude there is no use in attempting 
to resist the impression of the discourse, and you unconsciously 
hang your head and give full indulgence to your emotions and 
your tears. When the sermon is ended, you scarcely know- 
why you wept, but you have a profound conviction that piety 
is a good thing, and in your inmost soul you can say with 
Balaam: "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my 
last end be like his ! " 

Soon after I commenced my ministry I left my native 
county, and for many years had no opportunity of hearing my 
old pastor preach. I became accustomed to the preaching of 
Broaddus and Kerr, Semple and Brown (of Washington), Rice 
and Baptist, Staughton and Dagg, and other ministers re- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 89 

nowned for their learning, eloquence, and usefulness. I came 
to the conclusion that I had entirely overrated the pulpit power 
of the venerable Harris. I supposed that the impressions made 
on my own mind by his sermons were due rather to the ten- 
derness of my youthful feelings and my inexperience, than to 
the power of the discourses. The effects that I had seen in 
large congregations under his ministry I attributed to the ex- 
citability of a plain, rustic people. When I was near fifty years 
old, and Harris was not far from eighty, I had several oppor- 
tunities of hearing him preach, and, to my surprise, I was 
affected under his ministry precisely as I had been in my 
youth. No doubt his preaching had lost much of its fire and 
pathos, but it was marked by a simplicity, tenderness, and unc- 
tion that moved me to tears, and made me feel what an awful 
thing goodness is. 

Harris is dead, but the fruit of his labors has survived him, 
and will continue, doubtless, to the end of time. I question 
whether I have ever known a minister whose labors, directly 
and indirectly, have been more useful. He baptized probably 
thirty men who became pastors and evangelists, many of whom 
have been distinguished for their talents, popularity, and suc- 
cess. Among these may be mentioned the Witts, the Hatch- 
ers, Mills, Johnston, Pearcy, Barker, to say nothing of many 
whose names I do not even know. 

Rev. William Leftwich was a true yoke-fellow of Elder Har- 
ris. The former was a few years older than the latter. Their 
lot was cast in the same field, and for more than forty years 
they harmoniously co-operated in evangelical labors. Left- 
wich was a native of Bedford county, and descended from one 
of its best families. His education was not liberal, but good 
for the time and region in which he was reared. He was of 
ordinary stature, ruddy complexion, neat in his attire, and bore 
the unmistakable marks of gentility. In his early years he was 
in public life, and represented his county in the Legislature ot 
the State. We remember his saying that he heard Richard 
Henry Lee, of Westmoreland, speak in the Assembly, and that 
he was the greatest orator to whom he had ever listened. I 



90 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

have found other proofs that he was one of the most learned 
and polished of the American revolutionary statesmen. Left- 
wich possessed by inheritance, or acquired by success in busi- 
ness, quite an ample estate. He lived in great comfort, and in 
a style superior to that of most of his neighbors and all his 
brother ministers of the upper country. 

Elder Leftwich was a plain, sensible, sound, instructive 
preacher. His sermons were in better style, more methodical, 
and more doctrinal, but less pathetic and popular, than those 
of his brother Harris. The former aimed more at enlightening 
the mind, the latter at impressing the heart. The former was 
considered the abler, the latter was unquestionably the more 
useful preacher. In one respect, Leftwich excelled any preacher 
of his time and region. He was notably an experimental 
preacher. Whatever might be his text, and whether his theme 
was doctrinal or practical, he was sure to find a place for ex- 
perimental remarks. He seemed to possess a wonderful knowl- 
edge of the human heart, with all its devices, emotions, and 
tendencies. Each hearer was apt to think that the preacher 
meant him, as the remarks seemed to be so perfect a delinea- 
tion of his own experience. I can never forget a sermon which 
I heard him preach while under deep concern about my salva- 
tion. He was on his favorite theme — religious experience. 
He described with striking accuracy the inward conflicts of an 
awakened sinner — his hopes and fears, his resolves and failures, 
his convictions and sorrows. In the midst of his discourse he 
suddenly paused, and exclaimed, with unusual emphasis : 
"How much like a hypocrite he feels!" The effect of the 
words on my heart was electrical. That was precisely what I 
was feeling. While the remark tended to humble, it also in- 
spired me with hope. I seemed to have a glimpse of one of 
the waymarks on the passage from death unto life. 

In one particular, Elder Leftwich was entitled to the highest 
praise. Several of the young preachers who.sprang up in Bed- 
ford and the contiguous counties, after the great revival, at- 
tained to a sudden notoriety. Some of the older preachers 
looked with suspicion, if not with jealousy, on the popularity 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 91 

of their younger brethren. Certainly no such feeling found a 
place in the bosom of Elder Leftwich. He kindly took them 
by the hand, encouraged them by his presence and inspiring 
words, gave them his fatherly counsel, and rejoiced in their 
successes as if they had been his own sons. It is not easy to 
estimate how much they were indebted to the friendship and 
encouragement of one so elevated in social life, so ripe in expe- 
rience, and so wise in counsel as he was. 

Elder Leftwich was no mean polemic. He was not pugna- 
cious, as many ministers of the time were, but was always will- 
ing and ready to defend the truth. He was a Calvinist of the 
Fullerian school. He had Fuller's works, then just coming 
into notice in this country, read and studied them carefully, 
accepted their teaching heartily, and defended it bravely and 
vigorously. In argument, he was cool, deliberate, clear, and 
always courteous to opponents. He sometimes indulged 
slightly in a dry humor, which caused a smile at the expense 
of his antagonists. While he did not profess to be set for the 
defense of the gospel, he was really one of the clearest ex- 
pounders and the strongest defenders of evangelical truth. and 
of Baptist principles among the ministers of my early acquaint- 
ance. * 



XIX. 

MY EARLY ASSOCIATES IN THE MINISTRY— 

Continued. 

AMONG the most notable of my early acquaintances in the 
ministry was Elder William Davis, of Henry county, Vir- 
ginia. I had known him from my boyhood. He was accus- 
tomed to make preaching tours in the regions around, and they 
were often extended into the county of Bedford. His appoint- 
ments excited great interest, and drew large congregations. 
His appearance and manner of preaching were well adapted to 
make a deep impression on the mind of a boy. He was rather 
above the ordinary size, inclining to corpulency, with round 
features, and clad in the simple country style. In the pulpit 
his manner was free, bold, and not ungraceful. On a stage, in 
the open air, in his shirt sleeves, he would move backwards and 
forwards, as a gladiator prepared for combat, and inviting it. 

Elder Davis had acquired the sobriquet of the "Arminian 
Skinner." He believed that God had raised him up for the 
special purpose of fighting the Methodists, and right manfully 
did he follow his vocation. He was no mean polemic. En- 
dowed with a vigorous intellect, his culture had been neglected, 
and the measure of his information was small. His views, 
though narrow, were sharp and clear, and he could deliver 
them in coarse, strong language. He knew the weak points 
of Arminianism, and could strike them with no little force. I 
give a specimen of his style of preaching. "The Baptists," 
he said, ' ' are the greatest bunglers that I have ever known. 
I have been attending their Associations for many years, but I 
have never known a soul convicted, converted, and finished off 
at a single meeting; but the Methodist can convict, convert, and 
finish off from fifty to a hundred souls at a single camp-meet- 
ing. Soon, however, the poor things fall from grace; and, oh, 
what a disappointment ! The poor souls are disappointed; the 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 93 

Methodists are disappointed; and God is disappointed. The 
only way to save Methodist converts is to cut off their heads 
and send them straight to heaven." 

The Methodists returned the assaults of the Baptist gladiator 
with such blows as their strength and ingenuity could inflict. 
Elder Davis, in one of his missionary tours, had an appoint- 
ment to preach at the Quaker meeting-house, on the southern 
border of Bedford county. It was rumored that Rev. Mr. 
Hunter, a Methodist circuit rider, would be present at the meet- 
ing, with certificates to prove that the Elder had been guilty of 
drunkenness. Having been informed of this rumor, he made 
his appearance at the time and place appointed, with docu- 
ments for the vindication of his character. The congregation 
was large, and the expectation of a ministerial conflict general 
and intense. As Davis was proceeding in his sermon, Mr. 
Hunter stepped in at the door in front of the preacher. He 
knew his antagonist, and the effect of his presence was electri- 
cal. It was seen at once in the increased boldness of manner, 
the greater volume of voice, and the more vigorous thought 
of the preacher. When he had finished his discourse, without 
a moment's delay, he said: "I have heard that a Methodist 
circuit rider would be here to-day with certificates to prove 
that I have been guilty of drunkenness. If he is present, I 
wish him to show himself." Mr. Hunter was entirely unpre- 
pared for such an assault as this. He expected to be the as- 
sailant, and not the defendant. He arose to his feet, was con- 
fused, and made some remarks which indicated that he was 
vacillating in his purpose. Davis instantly entered upon the 
defense of his character. He read, or caused to be read, many 
documents, seemingly of high authority, setting forth that he 
had been charged with drunkenness by sectarian influence and 
triumphantly vindicated from the charge. The reading of the 
documents was interspersed by many pertinent and caustic re- 
marks by the accused. When he had finished his defense, 
Mr. Hunter, having recovered his self-possession, arose to read 
his certificates in proof of the drunkenness of Davis; but the 
audience had prejudged the case. The boldness of the accused 



94 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

had won the day even before he was attacked. The circuit 
rider read his documents to a restless, inattentive audience, 
whose minds were preoccupied in favor of the accused. The 
triumph of Davis was complete. 

The congregation was neither required nor competent to de- 
cide the case. That Davis used strong drink habitually and 
freely, I do not doubt. Almost all ministers, of all denomina- 
tions, and indeed all Christians, as well as people of the world, 
used it constantly and under no strict restraint. Good men, 
in unguarded moments, were liable to use it to excess. Davis 
might have used it incautiously, and furnished ground for the 
suspicion and charge brought against him; but he should be 
judged, not according to the strict temperance views of the 
present day, but according to the notions and customs prevail- 
ing in his time. 

An event illustrative of the drinking customs of the period 
occurs to my mind. Witt and myself preached in the town of 
Leakesville, in North Carolina. The service was held in an 
academy. The congregation was large, seemingly intelligent 
and refined, and we both preached with unusual freedom. At 
the close of the sendee we were expecting to accompany Elder 
Davis some miles to the house of one of his friends. While 
we were on our horses, waiting for our companion to guide us, 
a man came to us and requested us to go down into the village 
to drink wine. We scarcely treated him with common polite- 
ness. The invitation seemed to us to be little less than an in- 
sult. Soon, however, Davis and his friends came to us, saying 
that we had all been invited down into Leakesville to drink 
wine, and that we must go. We silently submitted to the de- 
cision, supposing that we should be led into some genteel par- 
lor to partake of wine — an indulgence which we carefully 
avoided. What was our surprise, when on reaching the centre 
of the village, and while the congregation was passing from the 
religious services, to find that the wine was brought out in a 
pitcher and distributed among the guests in the street. We 
felt indignant, and turned the tails of our horses to the grog- 
shop, exhibiting more displeasure in our manner than was com- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 95 

patible with our relations with those who ruled the drinking 
ceremony. I mention this incident as a proof, not that Davis 
was intemperate, but of the free and easy manner in which in- 
toxicating liquors were then used. Probably Witt and myself 
were the only persons to whom the drinking, under the cir- 
cumstances, appeared improper; and our views on the subject 
of drinking were in advance of the times. 

It was my misfortune early to lose the favor of Elder Davis. 
In doctrine, he was an extreme predestinarian, if not an anti- 
nomian. He denied that it was the duty of sinners to be con- 
verted, on the ground that they could not convert themselves, 
and that it would be unjust in God to require of them what was 
impossible. I had not been so taught by Elder Leftwich, who 
had read the works and adopted the views of Andrew Fuller. 
I ventured to call in question the opinion of Elder Davis. We 
entered into a discussion. I asked whether it is the duty of 
sinners to love God. To deny it, would be to annul the divine 
law. He was obliged to admit that it was their duty. I then 
asked him if they were able to keep the law of God. The El- 
der, who was not devoid of logical acumen, saw that he had 
run upon a snag. That one so young and inexperienced as I 
should call in question the soundness of the doctrine of a min- 
ister so distinguished as he was, he deemed an unpardonable 
offense. He never knew a young minister, he said, who dif- 
fered from him in opinion to turn out well. Some of his ad- 
mirers, too, thought that I had been guilty of insufferable pre- 
sumption in calling in question the soundness of the faith of one 
who, through all that region, was the standard of.orthodoxy. 

Elder Davis was the leader of the anti-mission faction. He 
was a member of the Mayo Association, but he exerted a con- 
trolling influence over the churches of the Strawberry Associa- 
tion lying south of the Staunton river, and was the ruling spirit 
of the Pigg River Association, into which these churches were 
organized. 

It is proper that I should give my estimate of the character 
and abilities of Elder Davis. He was, I doubt not, a good 
man; but his character, naturally enough, was formed by the 



96 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

circumstances under which he lived. He possessed a vigorous 
intellect, but his education was poor, he read few books, his 
knowledge of the world was limited to the narrow sphere in 
which he lived, and almost all his associates acknowledged his 
superiority. He fell into a natural mistake. Being the greatest 
minister of his region, he formed an exalted opinion of his abil- 
ities. The deference paid him by his associates made him self- 
confident, overbearing, and intolerant. I have never known a 
man more impatient of contradiction than he was. To differ 
from him in opinion was to incur his displeasure. He undoubt- 
edly possessed great force of character. He made and left an 
impression on the community in which he lived, in many re- 
spects, I think, unfortunate, but which a half a century has not 
sufficed to erase. 

Had Elder Davis received early and careful intellectual cul- 
ture ; had he enjoyed the means of extensive knowledge; had 
he associated with men of learning and wisdom ; had he mingled 
more with the world in its various pursuits, and had he been 
devoted to earnest and well-directed studies, he would have 
thought far less of his own abilities, and been held in far higher 
estimation by his age. In short, I think that he possessed 
native abilities which, with proper improvement, would have 
made him a man in any community and in any sphere, but 
which, being sadly neglected, made him of the class of men 
who would rather be "judges among fools than fools among 
judges." 



XX. 

MY EARLY ASSOCIATES IN THE MINISTRY— 

Continued. 

WITH Rev. John S. Lee I was not intimately connected, 
though I knew him from my boyhood. He was the 
founder and first pastor of the Baptist church in Lynchburg, 
and for many years the popular clerk of the Strawberry Asso- 
ciation. He was born in the Northern Neck, was a worthy 
member of the Lee family, but whether he was related to the 
illustrious Lees of that region, I cannot say. He was tall, 
slender, with sharp features and an uncommonly long nose. 
My first impressions of him were exceedingly favorable. He 
was clothed in broadcloth, and in my boyhood I deemed all 
men' great who wore broadcloth. His manners were precise 
and dignified, quite unlike those of the rustic preachers who 
usually attended the Association. The probability is that he 
never delivered a sermon in his shirt sleeves. Then, too, he 
came from a town, the centre, as I supposed, of all learning and 
refinement. His preaching did not produce the same impres- 
sion on me as that of Harris or Leftwich; but I imagined that 
he was greatly superior to them in knowledge and in all the 
arts of oratory. 

After I grew to manhood, and became better acquainted with 
Brother Lee, my opinion of his abilities were greatly modified, 
and much more, doubtless, in harmony with his own. He was 
a good man, very conscientious, and quite rigid in his religious 
principles. He had no great pulpit power, but was unflinch- 
ingly faithful in preaching and defending what he deemed 
truth. In his ministry he dwelt much on the doctrine of hu- 
man depravity. At all times, in all places, and before all audi- 
ences the discussion of it was considered in order. It lay at 



98 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

the foundation of the gospel, and it was a most prolific theme 
for argument, illustration, and practical remarks. There was 
no doctrine, fact, duty, or privilege of Christianity with which 
he could not blend his favorite subject. He could scarcely be 
placed in a situation in which he could not gracefully glide into 
its discussion. An incident in his life will best illustrate his 
power in this respect. 

An acquaintance of his had died. His will was offered for 
probate, and resisted by the heirs at law, on the plea of his in- 
sanity. The case was tried before the late Judge William Daniel, 
of the Lynchburg district, remarkable for the sternness of his 
manner. Many witnesses were examined in the case, and 
Brother Lee among the rest. After he was duly sworn, the 
Judge began his examination : ' ' Mr. Lee, did you know the 
deceased?" "Yes, sir." " Did you consider him insane?" 
"Yes, sir ; all men by nature are. ' ' The Judge, being himself 
in a natural state, seemed a little nonplussed ; but after a brief 
delay, he said: "You may stand aside, Mr. Lee. Sheriff, call 
another witness. ' ' If Brother Lee was not always wise, he was 
always honest. 

Among my early acquaintances in the ministry was Elder 
Moses Greer, of Franklin county, Va. He was of a highly re- 
spectable family, and fully sustained its respectability. He was 
rather above the ordinary stature, quite lean, and very plain in 
his dress, as were all the preachers of his region. His manners 
were simple and unaffected. He was past the meridian of life 
when Witt and myself were entering on our ministry. He was 
of very tender feelings, rarely failing to mingle a profusion of 
tears with his prayers and exhortations. He was a clear, sound 
preacher, and as free from ambition as could well be desired. 
In a small circuit in his county he passed his life in unostenta- 
tious efforts to do good. In his latter years he was led off 
from the main body of the Baptist denomination by the anti- 
mission faction. Let him not be severely censured for this. 
His means of information were very limited, and the missionary 
work, as it was presented to him by the leaders of the faction, 
seemed to be a very evil thing. I record, with gratitude and 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 99 

pleasure, this testimonial of his hospitality and kindness to me, 
when, as a stripling and a stranger, I visited his neighborhood. 

Elder Greer was remarkable for' two things : The first was 
intoning. Of all the preachers we have known, he carried this 
art to the highest perfection. He sung his hymns, prayers, ser- 
mons, and exhortations all in the same tune, and a most mourn- 
ful tune it was. No one not greatly given to levity could hear 
it without solemnity. All in sympathy with the intoner had 
their hearts stirred within them. If a stranger, unacquainted 
with his language, had heard his intonations he would have 
concluded that the old man was in fearful distress. If Brother 
Greer were living, with his voice unimpaired and his sympa- 
thies unblunted, the clergymen who are reviving the art of 
intoning would find themselves much profited under his in- 
struction and by imitating his unaffected example. 

The second thing for which the good Elder was notable was 
spiritualizing the Scriptures. On that line he went beyond 
Origen himself, the father of the system. "I believe," he 
said — I remember his words well — "that every tex' (a com- 
mon pronunciation in that day) in the Bible; and not only 
every tex', but every word; and not only every word,, but 
every letter; and not only every letter, but every crook and 
dot of every letter, has a spiritual meaning." Beyond that 
theory it is not possible for human ingenuity to go. The ex- 
cellent brother did not deem himself skilled in discerning the 
spiritual import of the Scriptures. He was careful not to ven- 
ture in the ocean of divine truth much beyond his depth. 
When he allegorized the Scriptures, he was cautious to find in 
them only such truths as were generally received by evangeli- 
cal Christians. It was wonderful how the spiritualizers did mix 
up in their sermons things true and fanciful, things spiritual 
and material, and they were generally accounted ingenious and 
wise in proportion as they gave the widest range to their im- 
aginations and drew their sermons from the most unpromising- 
sources. 

Among the Baptist preachers who attracted particular atten- 
tion at the Associations and other big meetings in my early 



100 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

years was Joshua Burnett, of the region now known as Roan- 
oke county. When I knew him he was past the meridian of 
life, tall, lank, and of delicate appearance. His sermons were 
very short, usually occupying not more than half an hour, free 
from the holy tone then so common in the pulpit, and delivered 
in a very quiet, solemn manner. He was one of the most pop- 
ular preachers of the whole region. When he was sent to 
the stand the Association had but few attendants except its 
members. 

I heard Elder Burnett preach but seldom, and never after I 
commenced my ministry. Of one of his sermons I have a dis- 
tinct recollection. During the time that I was under religious 
concern I went to hear him in a rude wood house on Goose 
creek, which has been succeeded by the respectable brick 
church called Mount Zion. The old man preached from I Peter, 
i: 13: "Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, 
and hope to the end. ' ' His discourse was based principally on 
the word "loins," which he understood as if it had been spelled 
lines. The discourse was allegorical, according to the preva- 
lent custom. He considered the different uses of the word 
lines — lines for the guidance of workmen — lines for the divi- 
sion of lands — lines for governing work-beasts, — and lines for 
the running of coaches. From these various kinds of lines he 
ingeniously drew spiritual instruction. The reader must not 
judge of the merit of the sermon by its fanciful outline. The 
earnest preacher contrived to mingle much sound religious in- 
struction with his wild conceits. I was not greatly impressed 
by the sermon. It did not contain the food for which I was 
hungering. 

My acquaintance with Elder Burnett's ministry does not jus- 
tify me in forming a positive opinion of its merit. I am, how- 
ever, well acquainted with a lay brother who has long resided 
in the region where the venerable preacher lived, labored, and 
died, and he assures me that he was held by his neighbors in 
the highest estimation for his piety, his gifts, and his labors. 
He left behind him a fragrant reputation and a wholesome reli- 
gious influence. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 101 

Very false estimates are made of the talents of preachers. 
He is the best preacher who is best fitted to do good. Preach- 
ers are usually valued according to their learning, the beauty 
of their style, the freshness and splendor of their conceptions, 
and their power to fascinate their hearers; but many such preach- 
ers are to their hearers ' ' as one that hath a pleasant voice, and 
can play well on an instrument," for men hear their "words, 
but do them not." On the other hand, there are preachers of 
little learning, a small stock of knowledge, and none of the 
graces of oratory, who, by their simplicity of style and manner, 
their unction, and the directness of their discourses, are mighty 
in winning souls for Christ. In short, the Lord employs men 
of various gifts for various purposes/and grants them success 
according to his own pleasure; and all should be duly prized. 
"Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas .... all are yours; 
and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." 



XXI. 

PREVALENT SUPERSTITIONS. 

THE word "superstition" has quite a variety of meanings. 
I use it to denote the dread of imaginary beings or evils. 
It has prevailed, more or less, among all peoples, barbarous and 
civilized, and in all ages. It is more common among the igno- 
rant than among the cultivated classes of society, but is by 
no means limited to them. The grosser superstitions of my 
neighborhood were passing away at the time of my boyhood. 
I never saw a witch, or a woman reputed to be one, though I 
heard many thrilling stories of witches that had recently re- 
sided in the vicinity. My father and mother were entirely free 
from superstition. They never gave the slightest credence to 
the witch and ghost stories then current in the community. I 
adopted the views of my parents; but, in spite of my incredu- 
lity, in the dark and alone, I was terribly afraid of seeing some- 
thing which I might imagine was a ghost. In about a mile of 
my residence was a place called Gatson's. It was an old field, 
overgrown with bushes and young pines, from which almost 
every vestige of a dwelling had been removed. Here, before 
my birth, resided old Mrs. Gatson. Her neighbors believed 
most unquestionably that she was a witch. I heard my grand- 
father, who lived near her, tell this story about her: 

One of her neighbors suffered loss by a disease among his 
cattle or hogs, and Mrs. Gatson was strongly suspected of 
having bewitched them. It was resolved that the matter 
should be put to a test. It was believed that if new needles 
were boiled in a pot the witch would come to the house and 
not be able to enter it unless she could pick up something in 
the yard to take with her. Arrangements were made for the 
trial. The yard was carefully swept, and every movable thing 
was taken away. New needles were put into a pot of boiling 
water, and all were on the qui vive for the arrival of Mrs. Gat- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 103 

son. Sure enough, she soon made her appearance, walked 
through the yard, and, picking up a little child that had been 
permitted to stray beyond the door, went directly into the 
house. The trial had been a partial failure, but the measure 
of success had been sufficient to strengthen the suspicion that 
she was a witch. She removed from the neighborhood, but 
left behind her, among the superstitious, the unwavering belief 
that she was a witch. 

There had been, in my early days, a great abatement of the 
superstitions of the past, but still they lingered among ignorant 
people, and especially among the negroes. Story-telling was 
one of the common amusements of the times, and these stories 
usually related to witches, hags, giants, prophetic dreams, 
ghosts, and the like. The dread of jack-o'-lanterns, grave- 
yards, and ghosts was quite common, and extended much be- 
yond the avowed belief in their reality. Haunted spots were 
quite common, to which timid passengers usually gave a wide 
berth in the night. Ghosts were not unfrequently seen gliding 
about in the twilight or in the moonshine, clothed in white. 
Indeed, I came very near seeing a ghost myself. When I was 
a lad, having been at work in a distant field, I was returning 
home by moonlight. At a sudden turn in the road I saw, di- 
rectly before me, an object, ghost-like in color, but of a dim 
and undefined shape. I surveyed it with more alarm than 
pleasure. At first it seemed still, but after I had gazed at it 
awhile it seemed to move slowly from side to side in the road. 
My father had a servant, an old man, who was coming not far 
behind me, who made great boasts of his heroism. He had 
no fear of ghosts. He was, however, when he came up, star- 
tled by the apparition. After carefully eyeing it, and duly 
considering the danger, and arming himself with a bludgeon, 
he resolved to approach it. As he advanced with slow and 
trembling steps, I marched close behind him, and found that 
the supposed ghost was a wagon loaded with white plank, that 
had broken down and been left in the road. Many such ghosts 
were seen in that day. 

In my early years I resided a short time in the county of 



104 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Campbell. Near my residence was a haunted spot, which most 
persons passed with dread in the dark. It was known that a 
timid man was to go that way on a certain night. A mis- 
chievous wight determined to frighten him. He communicated 
his purpose to a young man, who resolved to play the same 
prank on him. Quite early this latter trickster was at the 
haunted place, wrapped in a sheet, and carefully concealed. 
In due time the other mischievous fellow, in ghostly garb, took 
his position. Soon the unsuspecting but faint-hearted pas- 
senger made his appearance, and, frightened by what he sup- 
posed to be a ghost, took to his heels, with the ghost in pur- 
suit. At the proper time ghost No. 2 joined in the chase. 
The scene became intensely exciting. The foremost ghost, 
alarmed in turn, cried to the object of his pursuit: "Stop, 
Dick ! stop, Dick ! I am not Plunkett" (the name of the man 
whose ghost was supposed to haunt the place), "but here he 
is behind me." It was a great relief when it was discovered 
that the supposed ghosts were mischievous spirits, clothed with 
flesh and blood. 

Superstitious notions were by no means limited to the Pied- 
mont portion of Virginia. When, in the early period of my 
ministry, I visited Princess Anne, the extreme southeastern 
county of the State, I saw a horse-shoe nailed on the steps of 
many houses. I had seen the like in my native county. I 
knew that it was intended as a protection against witches. It 
was supposed that they could not enter a dwelling at whose 
door a horse-shoe was nailed. It was a strange notion. It 
was a fixture that presented no obstacle to the entrance of or- 
dinary men and women; how, then, could it be a barrier to the 
admission of witches, who, to the common powers of humanity, 
added the cunning and resources of evil spirits. Superstition 
does not reason: it simply believes, without reason or against it. 

There is a strong tendency to superstition in human nature. 
When it becomes rooted, it is almost ineradicable. It had an 
early and vigorous development in Princess Anne county. In 
the Colonial times Grace Greenwood was tried there for the 
crime of witchcraft. A jury of women examined her person, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 105 

and reported to the court that she bore marks — moles, doubt- 
less, they were — not common to other women, which they 
deemed strong presumptive proof of her guilt. What became 
of poor Grace, the preserved records do not show; but certain 
it is that half a century ago the people of her region deemed it 
necessary to guard against the mischiefs of witchcraft by care- 
fully fastening horse-shoes on the steps of their doors. 

Superstition was not confined to country people. There 
were traces of it, especially among the colored people, in this 
city, less than forty years ago. I remember well a case of dis- 
cipline which came before the First Baptist church during my 
pastorate. A colored man had been excluded from its com- 
munion before my pastorate commenced. At a meeting held 
specially for the exercise of discipline among the colored mem- 
bers, the old man appeared, having passed the ordeal of the 
colored deacons, to gain restoration to church membership. 
He made frank confession of his faults, and fair promises of 
amendment in the future, and was on the point of being voted 
into the church, when deacon Archibald Thomas, a pretty- 
strict disciplinarian, said to the penitent: "Do you believe in 
witchcraft?" He answered promptly and firmly, "I do." 
"Did you ever see a witch?" continued the deacon. "Did 
you ever see the devil ? ' ' with some hesitation, answered the 
old man. The laugh was turned on the deacon. 

This altercation brought to his feet one of the colored dea- 
cons, Simon Bailey. The candidate had received the sanction 
of the deaconship, and it was proper that their decision should 
be vindicated. Simon was a good man; illiterate, but sensible; 
a devout and faithful Christian. He might be superstitious, 
but superstition had no power to turn him from the path of 
duty. He stated that he had lived in the country, and that, 
with his own eyes, he had seen the manes and tails of horses 
twisted into stirrups. He was chary, in the presence of Deacon 
Thomas, of expressing any opinion of the cause of this entan- 
glement, but it was the common opinion that the horses were 
rode by witches, and, for his own part, if these stirrups were 
not made for them he could not tell what they were made for. 



106 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

What disposition was made by the church of the believer in 
witchcraft, I do not now recollect. Quite sure I am that, with 
my present views on the subject, his belief in witchcraft should 
have been no barrier to his admission to church membership. 
Paul believed in witchcraft. "The works of the flesh are 
these," he says, "witchcraft," among the rest. The word is 
rendered "sorcery" in the revised version of the passage. 
What it was, it may not be possible for us precisely to know. 
Coneybeare & Howson define it to be the "profession of 
magical arts." The disciples of Jesus believed in the visibility 
of spirits, and supposed that their risen Lord was a spirit. To 
convince them of his identity, he said to them: "Handle me, 
and see ; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me 
have." He reproved them, not for their credulity, but for 
their incredulity. He did not condemn their belief in spirits, 
but their failure to distinguish between him and a spirit. The 
tendency of the present century is to scepticism rather than to 
superstition. Whatever may be true in regard to witches and 
seeing ghosts, it is quite certain that belief in these things, 
while it may mar the consistency and beauty, does not prevent 
the reality and usefulness of true piety. 



XXII. 

THE ORGANIZATION OF THE BAPTIST GEN- 
ERAL ASSOCIATION OF VIRGINIA. 

THIS event occurred in the city of Richmond, in the month 
of June, 1823. At its meeting in the town of Lynchburg, 
in the previous year, the Baptist General Meeting of Corre- 
spondence, organized some years before merely to keep up a 
friendly intercourse among the Associations of the State, re- 
solved so to change its constitution as to become a domestic 
missionary society. Arrangements were made to consummate 
this plan at the place and the time named above. My friend, 
Daniel Witt, having in the preceding winter visited Richmond, 
and preached with great acceptance, received a cordial invita- 
tion to attend the meeting for the proposed organization. 
Without difficulty I was induced to accompany him. In due 
time, on horseback, equipped in such style as our means would 
permit, we set out to attend the meeting. We were accom- 
panied and guided by Elder Robert Tisdale, a minister from 
the lower part of the State, who had spent two or three years 
among the mountains to regain his health. He was well ac- 
quainted with the route over which we were to pass, and with 
the arts of economical travelling. Of nights we staid at private 
houses, and were hospitably entertained — a custom then quite 
common with travelling ministers, and one well suited to our 
financial condition. Nothing of special moment occurred on 
our journey, but I was intensely interested in all that I saw and 
heard. I had never before been so far from home, and to me 
everything had a fresh and charming appearance. In my view, 
the James river was of magnificent size, and the city of Rich- 
mond, then about a fourth of its present dimensions, seemed 
to me to be of surpassing grandeur. The capitol exceeded all 
my conceptions of architectural greatness and beauty. The 
city made an impression on my youthful imagination more de- 



108 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

lightful and overpowering than in my declining years was 
made by the vastness of London, the beauties of Paris, or the 
wonders of Rome. I and my travelling companions put up at 
a boarding-house on Governor street, between Main and 
Franklin, kept by an excellent brother, who treated us very 
kindly, and at our departure charged us moderate board, with, 
many apologies for charging us at all — apologies justified, 
doubtless, by his cramped pecuniary circumstances. 

The meeting for organizing the Association was held in the 
Second Baptist church — a building then incomplete, situated 
on a cross street, between Main and Cary. The congregation, 
at the opening of the services, was small. The introductory 
sermon was preached by Rev. R. B. Semple, from Heb. xiii : 
16 : " But to do good, and to communicate, forget not ; for with 
such sacrifices God is well pleased. ' ' I had heard of the fame 
of Semple, but was greatly disappointed in his sermon. It was 
not the kind of preaching that I had been taught to admire. 
Its want of adaptation to my taste was no proof that it lacked 
merit. It was, I have no question, a plain, sensible, practical, 
and very appropriate discourse. Of the proceedings of the 
meeting I have no distinct recollection. After due considera- 
tion, a constitution was adopted, and the Baptist General As- 
sociation of Virginia was organized. At that time there was 
great jealousy in the Associations, and among Baptists gener- 
ally, of any body that was supposed to be able to encroach on 
the liberties and prerogatives of the churches. The fathers 
who organized the General Association were tremblingly alive 
to this jealousy, and intensely anxious to adopt such measures 
as should disarm all prejudices. In consequence they placed 
the Association under such restrictions that it could do little 
good or evil. Through long years it was crippled in its efforts 
to be useful by needless constitutional shackles which had, one 
after another, to be cast off, with no little discussion, and not 
always in a lovely spirit. 

Though my recollections of the proceedings of the meeting 
are dim, my remembrance of many of the preachers and their 
sermons is quite vivid. I heard them preach with intense in- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 109 

terest, and their discourses made an indelible impression on 
my mind. Luther Rice preached at night, in the Second Bap- 
tist church, from Matt, xvi : 17 : " Blessed art thou, Simon Bar- 
jona ; for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my 
Father which is in heaven. ' ' The sermon fell far below my 
expectation, and equally below the reputation and abilities of 
the speaker. Rev. Edward Baptist preached in the Presbyte- 
rian church in the Valley, known as the "Pine-apple church," 
on Lord's-day afternoon. His text was Hab. hi : 2 : " O Lord, 
revive thy work." The sermon was chaste in style, beautiful 
in imagery, and graceful in delivery, but was hardly equal to 
the fame of the orator, and was far less eloquent and impas- 
sioned than sermons which I afterwards heard from his lips. 
Rev. O. B. Brown, of Washington, preached on Sunday morn- 
ing in the First Baptist church, from Hab. ii : 14: "For the 
earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the 
Lord, as the waters cover the sea." It was a missionary dis- 
course, delivered to a crowded audience, and was evidently 
the sermon of the occasion. Rev. James Fife preached on 
Monday afternoon, at the close of the business of the meeting, 
in the First church, to a pretty full congregation, from Heb. 
ii : 3 : "How shall we escape, if we neglect so great, salva- 
tion?" His sermon was quite pathetic, and produced a deep 
impression on his hearers, as was evinced by their tears. Witt 
preached, but, preferring to listen to some strange minister, I 
did not hear him. His sermon, however, was heard with great 
pleasure, and its praise was on every tongue. On comparing 
these sermons, I would say that of Rice was the feeblest, that 
of Baptist the most beautiful, that of Brown the most profound, 
that of Fife the most impressive, and that of Witt the most 
popular. I preached on a week-day night at the Second Bap- 
tist church. The congregation was good, and Semple, Brown, 
and others distinguished for their knowledge and venerable - 
ness, concealed themselves in a remote part of the church, that 
I might not be intimidated by their presence. My text was 
Psalm xxvii : 1: "The Lord is my light andjmy salvation; 
whom shall I fear ? ' ' Semple, who afterwards heard me preach 



110 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

frequently, always said this was as good a sermon as he ever 
heard me deliver. It was well for me, for it was more than 
seven years before I preached in Richmond again without em- 
barrassment and mortification. 

At this time I first saw several ministers whom I did not 
hear preach, but whom I afterwards knew well and prized. 
Among these I may mention the venerable Philip Montague 
(Blacky, as he was called, to distinguish him from a cousin of 
the same name) ; William Todd, the clerk of the Association ; 
Eli Ball, then just arrived from Massachusetts, and subse- 
quently the General Agent of the body ; Addison Lewis, a 
scholarly man, whom, after the lapse of more, than twenty 
years, I met in Missouri, and John Bryce, who had been long 
an associate pastor of the First church, was then residing in 
Fredericksburg, and, after many years, ended his days in Ken- 
tucky. 

On this visit I became acquainted with Rev. John Courtney, 
the aged and revered pastor of the First Baptist church. He 
was quite superannuated, and did not attend any of the meet- 
ings of the Association. He was a tall, rawboned man, bowed 
beneath the infirmities of age, and occupying a plain framed 
house, now standing in the rear of the Roman Catholic cathe- 
dral. He was held in high esteem within and without the 
church, not for his learning or his eloquence, but for his good 
sense, incorruptible integrity, earnest piety, and faithful and 
useful labors. Rev. Henry Keeling was nominally his assist- 
ant, but really the sole pastor of the church. Rev. David 
Roper, a very intelligent but not popular preacher, in rapidly- 
declining health, filled the pulpit of the Second church, but 
was not its pastor. 

It is to me an affecting thought, that of all the men, minis- 
ters and laymen, engaged in the formation of the Baptist Gen- 
eral Association of Virginia, I only am in the land of the living. 
Elder James Fife, one of the fathers of the body, after a long 
life of useful labors, was the last to depart. These good breth- 
ren built more wisely than they knew. They laid the founda- 
tions of an edifice of whose noble proportions and grandeur 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. Ill 

they formed no just conception. How would their hearts have 
swelled with gratitude and their tongues broke forth in strains 
of praise could they have foreseen the thousands of souls that 
would be converted, the hundreds of churches that would be 
founded, and the mighty missionary and educational influences 
that would be exerted by the feeble agencies they were putting 
in operation. If it is permitted to them in heaven to know 
the results of their earthly labors, their felicity is doubtless 
augmented by their view of the rich harvests that have been 
reaped, and are yet to be reaped, from the handful of seed cast 
by them in a seemingly unfruitful soil. 

In human life the grave and the cheerful, the sorrowful and 
the ludicrous, are strangely mingled. On my first visit to 
Richmond an event occurred in which it is hard to say whether 
the sad or comical predominated. I had in Lynchburg formed 
the acquaintance of a brother H. and his good wife, who had 
removed to Richmond. They were poor, pious, and respect- 
able. We were glad to meet after a year or two of separation, 
and so far from the place where our intimacy commenced. I 
was invited to dine with them, and readily accepted the in- 
vitation. They resided on the south side of Broad street, a few 
doors above Ninth. They occupied an upper story, the. front 
room being a few feet higher than the rear one. The table was 
set in the front room, near the door opening into the back one. 
The dinner was, doubtless, the best that the amiable family 
could provide. We had partaken of it heartily, and were sit- 
ting at the board engaged in pleasant social converse. By 
some chance Sister H. lost her balance and fell backward 
through the door, and in her fall, grasping the table-cloth, car- 
ried all the table ware with a terrible crash on the depressed 
floor of the rear room. It was a sad accident. The lady was 
painfully bruised, all the table crockery was broken, and the 
remnants of meats, pies, and preserves were mingled in sor- 
rowful confusion. To add to the trouble, Brother H. was in 
feeble and declining health, and little able to repair the damage 
that had been done. The good man lamented his loss, and 
his excellent wife, forgetful of all else, groaned over her pains 



112 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

and bruises. I deeply sympathized with them, and could have 
wept over their distress ; but the scene had a ludicrous as well 
as a sorrowful aspect. I knew that laughing, under the circum- 
stances, would be unseemly and offensive. I resolved that I 
would not indulge in it. I have, however, never been able, 
under strong temptation, to control my risible faculties. On 
this occasion I had a severe struggle. I restrained my laughter 
as long as possible, put my head under the side of the table to 
conceal it, and finally burst into a vociferous laugh. My mirth 
was painful, but unavoidable. I was ashamed, mortified, hum- 
bled, but had not the self-control to apologize for my rude and 
unseemly behavior. Had I possessed the means I would gladly 
have restored the table furniture, but the contents of my purse 
were almost exhausted. I sympathized not the less sincerely 
with my friends because I laughed at their ludicrous misfortune. 



XXIII. 
A MISSIONAR Y TO UR. 

AT the time of the formation of the General Association of 
Virginia it was arranged that Daniel Witt and myself 
should, in the month of August, appear before its Executive 
Board, of which Dr. Semple was the president, in the county 
of King and Queen, then a centre of Baptist influence. The 
object of the interview was that we might be appointed to ex- 
plore the western part of the State as a missionary field. At 
that time the Baptists of Virginia knew little of one another. 
Then there were no railroads, telegraphs, or religious newspa- 
pers. Travelling was performed almost entirely by private 
conveyances. Intercommunication between different portions 
of the State for political and commercial purposes was infre- 
quent, and for religious objects almost unknown. The Board,, 
before entering on its work for evangelizing the State, very 
naturally desired to know something of its religious condition. 
According to appointment, we presented ourselves before 
the Board, and were duly appointed missionaries to explore its 
field of labor and report its spiritual condition. At that time 
there was quite a romance thrown around the missionary work. 
There seemed to be something peculiarly sacred and inspiring 
in it. We deemed ourselves highly honored in the unsought 
and unexpected honor conferred on us. We accepted the ap- 
pointment, and received our instructions, carefully written out 
in the beautiful chirography of Rev. Andrew Broaddus. After 
preaching several times in the county, as we had afterwards 
reason to believe with some profit to our hearers, we returned 
to Bedford to prepare for our western tour with no slight sense 
of responsibility upon us. With minds immature, and with 
little knowledge and experience, we were very imperfectly 
fitted for our mission ; but perhaps, under all the circumstances, 
the Board could not then do better. 



114 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

On some day in October, 1823, two young men, one beard- 
less and the other nearly so, might have been seen journeying 
toward the setting sun. They were rudely, but after the com- 
mon style, equipped for their tour, mounted on steeds strong 
but not gay, with well-stuffed saddle-bags, and overcoats and 
umbrellas strapped behind them. It was to them a movement 
of no little interest and consequence. Their first point of des- 
tination was the New River Baptist Association, to be held, if 
my memory is not in fault, at Reed Island meeting-house, in 
Grayson county. Their route, with which in part they had 
some acquaintance, was through the counties of Franklin and 
Patrick. In due time they reached their destination. 

The Association was a small body. Its ministers were plain 
and illiterate, of narrow views and strong prejudices. The 
anti-mission spirit was then just beginning to develop itself and 
muster its forces for the conflict which soon followed. Witt 
and myself were looked upon with suspicion — as spies sent to 
search out the resources of the country. Another thing ren- 
dered us unpopular. Here we met Rev. Robert Tisdale, who 
had recently left the eastern part of the State to live and labor 
in the western. He resided in Monroe county, but in some of 
his journeys within the bounds of the New River Association 
he heard rumors of the disorderly conduct of a church mem- 
ber — desecration of the Lord's-day, I think it was — and pre- 
ferred a charge against the supposed offender in his own 
church. The trial of the accused stirred up strife. Retalia- 
tory charges were brought against Tisdale, and though they 
were of a trivial nature they rendered him extremely unpopu- 
lar. Our previous acquaintance with him led us, perhaps in- 
discreetly, to espouse his cause ; and being identified with him, 
in the minds of the brethren, we shared in his reproach. At 
Reed Island we did but little to promote the object of our mis- 
sion, when, doubtless, if we had been wise we might have done 
much. 

From this point we made a hasty circuit through the coun- 
ties of Wythe, Giles, Monroe, Greenbrier, Pocahontas, Bath, 
Alleghany, and Botetourt. We were accompanied on our 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 115 

route by Brother Tisdale as far as to Pocahontas county. He 
was of great service to us, as he was acquainted with the coun- 
try, and secured for us an introduction into many families, and 
many facilities for acquiring information which otherwise we 
could not have enjoyed. We found in most places great des- 
titution of religious instruction. Methodist circuit-riders had 
penetrated almost every neighborhood, but their labors were 
desultory, and many of them were very imperfectly fitted for 
their performance. There were Presbyterians in Lewisburg 
and at a few other points, but we neither saw nor heard of Epis- 
copalians. Baptist churches were few, feeble, and widely scat- 
tered, supplied with occasional preaching by illiterate pastors, 
with whom, for the most part, the ministry was a secondary 
matter. Almost everywhere we met with isolated Baptists and 
persons entertaining Baptist views. Our reception was gener- 
ally very cordial. The plain people welcomed us, we being as 
plain as they, to their coarse but abundant fare, and opened 
their houses freely for us to preach the gospel. There was no 
lack of mission fields. In almost every neighborhood we were 
invited to establish mission stations and send ministers to oc- 
cupy them. Court-houses, school-houses, and private houses 
were offered for our occasional or constant use. We preached 
as often as our opportunities permitted, but as we were travel- 
ling, and had no means of sending appointments ahead of us, 
our congregations, gathered on short notices of limited circu- 
lation, were generally small. 

The trip, though intensely interesting to us, with our very 
limited knowledge of the world, was not distinguished by any 
stirring incidents. A few events may not be unworthy of brief 
notice. 

I preached at a private house in the Little Levels of Green- 
brier ; think that was the name of the valley. At that time re- 
ligious controversy was common, and frequently conducted 
with great folly and fierceness. Almost every preacher was a 
polemic, and every polemic was ready on all occasions to do 
battle for his tenets. One of the subjects of controversy be- 
tween Calvinists and Arminians was the doctrine of sinless per- 



116 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

fection. Arminians affirmed, and Calvinists denied it ; and 
each party was equally eager to defend its opinion. In my 
sermon I took occasion to attack the doctrine of sinless perfec- 
tion. A Methodist class-leader present was resolved that no 
such heterodox notion should be proclaimed in the Little 
Levels of Greenbrier, and by means of shuffling his feet, stamp- 
ing, and contradicting, he well-nigh, on this occasion, accom- 
plished his purpose. I became embarrassed, and brought my 
remarks to a speedy but by no means triumphant conclusion. 
I was glad to learn, however, that the course of the class- 
leader was generally condemned in the community, even by 
his brethren. 

I had the privilege of being present at the first regimental 
militia muster in the newly-formed county of Pocahontas. 
The hunting of bears and wolves called for different tactics 
from those taught in modern warfare. The muster was a 
farce. The regimental column, according to the description 
of a militia parade which I read in a comic almanac, ' ' was zig- 
zag at both ends and crooked in the middle." The perplexed 
colonel, not knowing by what evolution to extricate it from 
its confusion, rode in front of the tangled line, and, with his 
drawn sword pointing out the ground, cried, in a stentorian 
voice, somewhat mellowed by despair : "Come along here." 
The muster was of no religious importance, except that it af- 
forded an opportunity for publishing an appointment for preach- 
ing in the neighborhood the next day. 

I was at Huntersville, which figured so largely in the late 
war, when there were no buildings there except the log cabins 
of Mr. Bradshaw. It had recently been selected as the me- 
tropolis of the county of Pocahontas, and Mr. Bradshaw, the 
owner of the land, seemed as proud of the distinction as if he 
had been elected Lord Mayor of London. He named the place 
Huntersville, in honor of the distinguished class of persons in 
that region of bears and deer, of wolves and foxes, of which Mr. 
Bradshaw was himself a prominent member. At the time of 
my visit his cabin served all the purposes of court-house, clerk's 
office, and hotel, and prison, too, if any prison was used. I 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 117 

am sorry that I did not preserve a copy of a notice to his cus- 
tomers which Mr. Bradshaw had posted in a conspicuous place 
on his premises. He had credited them, and fearing that they 
might repudiate their debts, he generously proposed an adjust- 
ment of his claims by receiving, at a fair valuation, whatever 
commodities his mountain friends might have to spare. In con- 
ception, language, orthography, and punctuation it was fairly 
entitled to a place among Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature. 

About the close of November we reached our homes, thank- 
ful for the mercies which had accompanied us through our 
journey. After some delay we appeared in King and Queen 
county to report to the Board the results of our mission. Both 
Witt and myself had kept diaries of our tour. His, as he was 
the senior missionary, was read before the Board. In answer 
to questions proposed by our employers, we gave them all the 
information that we had gathered concerning the religious con- 
dition of the people, and the openings for the preaching of the 
gospel in the regions through which we had passed. Guided 
by this imperfect report, the Board selected the early fields of 
its operations, and commenced its evangelical labors in the 
State, which, through a period of more than half a century, 
have been prosecuted with a good degree of earnestness, dili- 
gence, and success. 

I may mention an incident in conclusion. We stated before 
the Board that some man whom we saw in our travel said of 
Brother Tisdale : ' ' He is too learned a man to be a preacher ; 
he ought to be a lawyer." He was a sensible man, with very 
little education and no large stock of knowledge. When the 
statement was made, Andrew Broaddus, with a twinkle in his 
eye and with his inimitable grace, looking at Semple, said : 
"Brother Semple, if you and I had to try Brother Tisdale on 
that charge, we should acquit him." 



XXIV. " 

MY RESIDENCE IN SUSSEX COUNTY. 

MY visit to the county occurred in this way : Elder Na- 
thaniel Chambliss, pastor of the High Hills and Sap- 
pony Baptist churches, had relatives residing in Bedford 
county, near the home of Daniel Witt. Through them he 
heard of the popularity and success of the young evangelist, 
and invited him, just before the meeting in Richmond which 
organized the General Association, to visit the county and 
preach to his churches. Witt requested me to accompany 
him, and I cheerfully acceded to the request. 

At the close of the General Association we commenced our 
journey to Sussex, which then seemed to me to be a remote 
part of the world. Our first destination was Petersburg. Here 
we spent a Lord's-day. We were hospitably entertained by 
Brother Davenport, the main supporter of the Baptist church 
in the place. It was a feeble body, had recently erected a 
house of worship on a rivulet, far below the subsequent grade 
of the street, for which they were deeply in debt. They had 
sent out, or shortly afterwards sent out, an itinerant English 
minister, named Marcher, to collect money for the payment of 
their debt. The arrangement added slightly to its amount, 
but the generous agent accepted his collections as full com- 
pensation for his labors. It was arranged for Brother Witt 
and myself to preach on Sunday. Brother Davenport had 
heard Witt preach in Richmond, and was greatly pleased with 
his gifts, but he had serious doubts of my capacity to edify a 
Petersburg audience. It was appointed that Witt should 
preach in the morning and in the evening, the usual times of 
preaching ; and, to avoid mortification, it was provided that I 
should hold an afternoon service. Witt acquitted himself well, 
as he was one of the surest extempore preachers I have ever 
known. The afternoon was long, my congregation was very 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 119 

small and sleepy, and in my sermon I fulfilled the most gloomy 
forebodings of good Brother Davenport. He, no doubt, felt 
thankful that he had so judiciously arranged our appointments 
that I had brought but slight reproach on the cause which he 
had deeply at heart. 

On Monday we renewed our journey to Sussex. Of the 
trip I remember nothing, except my surprise and amusement 
at seeing on the road long poles attached to tall posts, with a 
bucket at one end, to draw water from shallow wells. Such 
an arrangement was not only new to me, but would have been 
impracticable in the deep wells of the Piedmont country. We 
reached the hospitable home of Brother Chambliss late in the 
afternoon. It was a comfortable dwelling on the road from 
Petersburg to Belfield, not far from the point at which the 
Petersburg and Weldon railroad now crosses the Nottoway 
river, but long before railroads had been heard of. We were 
received with great cordiality, and for several weeks preached 
in the surrounding neighborhoods to large and interested con- 
gregations. Witt's engagements necessitated his early return 
to Bedford, but, through the persuasion of Brother Chambliss 
and the churches, and the encouraging prospect of usefulness, 
I was induced to remain in the county. 

This was my first residence beyond my paternal roof, and 
certainly no stranger ever found a more pleasant home. 
Brother Chambliss boarded me and my horse gratuitously, 
made me generous and timely presents, and urged the churches 
to contribute to my support. His excellent wife vied with him 
in kindness, and spared neither pains nor expense to render 
my situation pleasant. Had I been an only son on a visit to 
them, after an absence of seven years, and expecting to leave 
them in a few weeks to see them no more on earth, they could 
not have treated me with greater consideration and kindness 
than they did throughout the three years that I sojourned with 
them. They laid me under imperishable obligations. While 
they lived I venerated them, and, though they have been dead 
many years, I have not ceased to hold them in grateful re- 
membrance, and rejoice in this opportunity of making a record 



120 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

of their excellence. Elder Chambliss was an honest, earnest, 
consistent Christian. In industry and management, he was 
an example to the whole community. As a preacher, he was 
sensible, solid, and faithful, laboring for nothing, and contribu- 
ting largely to the pecuniary support of his churches. Mrs. 
Chambliss — "Aunt Judy," as she was generally called — was in 
all respects worthy of her husband — gentle, discreet, hospita- 
ble, a neat and systematic housekeeper; in short, a pastor's 
model wife. If their monuments corresponded in height and 
beauty with the excellence of their characters, they would at- 
tract the attention and win the admiration of all who might 
pass them. 

My labors were not limited to the county of Sussex. The 
house of Brother Chambliss was not my constant home, but 
my headquarters. It was far more common than it is now for 
preachers to itinerate. Pastors labored much as evangelists. 
I had but little seed to sow, but I scattered it unsparingly over 
a vast field. I preached through the counties of Greensville, 
Brunswick, Lunenburg, Dinwiddie, Prince George, Surry, 
Southampton, Isle of Wight, and, indeed, all the counties 
from Sussex to the seaboard, between the James river and the 
North Carolina line, besides in several counties of that State. 
Sometimes I labored under the patronage of the General As- 
sociation, and at other times as an independent evangelist. 
One year I preached monthly as a gziasi-pastor, at Mill Swamp 
church, in Isle of Wight county, to large congregations. Of 
the results of my desultory labors I can form no estimate. 
During my residence in Sussex an interesting revival occurred 
at High Hills, by which many disciples were added to the 
church and the members were greatly refreshed. 

My stay in the county was attended with very important 
consequences to me. -It gave such opportunities for reading 
and studying as I had not before enjoyed. Elder Chambliss 
had a small but well-selected library, and I was enabled to buy 
such books as I most needed. Of these advantages I dili- 
gently availed myself. When I was at home, especially in the 
winter seasons, I read and studied with an unquenchable thirst 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 121 

for knowledge. I devoured Dwight's Theology, Mosheim's 
Ecclesiastical History, and many other volumes of real merit. 
Probably in no equal period of my life did I acquire so much 
useful knowledge or contribute so largely to my habit of study- 
ing as during my sojourn in Sussex. 

On the 4th of May, 1824, I was ordained to the work of the 
Christian ministry, at High Hills meeting-house, by Elders 
Nathaniel Chambliss and John D. Williams. It was to me an 
occasion of deep and solemn interest. In the morning I read, 
on my knees, the epistle of Paul to Timothy with earnest at- 
tention, that I might understand the weighty responsibilities I 
was about publicly to assume. At that time not more than 
two or three Baptist ministers in the State received salaries 
adequate to their support. I solemnly resolved before God 
that, so long as I should receive the necessaries of life by 
preaching, I would give myself wholly to the ministry. The 
sermon on the occasion was preached by Elder Williams, from 
Matt, xxiv : 45 : " Who then is a faithful and wise servant, 
whom his lord hath made ruler over his household, to give 
them meat in due season?" Of the services, after the lapse 
of more than half a century, I remember but little. The or- 
daining prayer was offered, as I suppose, by Elder Chambliss. 
That it was sincere and fervent I have no question, but in 
what measure I have been indebted to it for my usefulness in 
life only God knows. I desire to record that, in a period of 
more than fifty-four years, I have maintained inviolate the sol- 
emn pledge I made on the day of my ordination, and though 
my labors have been mostly among a plain, poor people, and 
my earthly supplies have often been meagre, I have never 
known want or been hindered in my appropriate work by sec- 
ular care. 

I never considered Sussex my permanent home. I was not 
pastor of any church, but merely the assistant of Elder Cham- 
bliss in the pastorate of two small country churches. In the 
spring of 1826 I deemed it my duty to leave my pleasant Sussex 
home. On the morning of my departure I read, at family wor- 
ship, the twentieth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. There 



122 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

was some similarity between the separation of Paul from his 
Ephesian brethren and my departure from my Sussex friends, 
especially in the fact that I ' ' kneeled down and prayed with 
them all and they all wept sore." The venerable Chambliss I 
saw no more. After a few years of absence I visited his home, 
and had the melancholy pleasure of standing by his grave and 
calling to grateful remembrance his paternal kindness to me in 
years past. Sister Chambliss I saw but two or three times 
after I ceased to dwell in her house. She lived several years, 
filled up her life with deeds of charity and devotion, and was 
peacefully dismissed to enter into the enjoyment of her eternal 
reward. 



XXV. 

THE FOR TSMO UTH ASSO CIA TION. 

IN May, 1824, the Portsmouth Baptist Association held its 
anniversary in the town of Portsmouth, where it was organ- 
ized in 1791. I then resided in Sussex county, and accompa- 
nied the venerable Chambliss to the meeting. We made the 
journey by private conveyance, and shared in the hospitality 
of the brethren by the way. The Association convened in the 
Baptist church, a framed building, on or near the spot where 
now stands the neat and comfortable Baptist worship-house. 
Rev. David M. Woodson, from Campbell county, Va., was 
the pastor of the flock. Doctor Bowers, a layman of fine ap- 
pearance, r polished manners, and great intelligence, was mod- 
erator of the body. Jacob Darden (reverend, I think he was, 
though from age and feebleness of health he preached but little) 
was clerk of the Association. He was tall, spare, and of ven- 
erable appearance. He was the Nestor of the body, and would 
have been considered wise, discreet, and excellent in any as- 
sembly of intelligent, good men. The prominent ministers of. 
the Association were, beside those already named, Chambliss, 
Murrel, Sherwood, Cornelius, and Brown. The meeting was 
remarkable for the number and ability of laymen who took 
part in its business. Besides the moderator, I remember Jo- 
siah Holliman and Benjamin Griffin, all of whom, at one time 
and another, were members of the State Legislature. Among 
the visiting ministers whom I call to mind were Richard Poin- 
dexter, the father of the late Dr. A. M. Poindexter, and Wil- 
liam H. Jordan, the half-brother of the Doctor, from Bertie 
county, North Carolina. 

Of the proceedings of the Association I recollect nothing, 
except a discussion on the validity of Pedobaptist immersions. 
In this conflict I fleshed my youthful sword, and was inglori- 
ously defeated. I had associated with Semple, A. Broaddus, 



124 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

and others among the fathers who maintained the validity of 
such baptisms, and had adopted their views. As this side of 
the subject seemed to be feebly supported, I ventured, with 
probably more -courage than discretion, for the first time in my 
life, to engage in religious controversy. My rashness evoked 
the chastising rod of Richard Poindexter. He was about fifty 
years old, of medium size, of swarthy complexion, possessed 
of a mind remarkable for astuteness and great self-possession 
and readiness in extempore debate. Dr. Poindexter, with 
greater culture and more breadth of mind, bore a strong intel- 
lectual resemblance to his sire. It may reasonably be supposed 
that I was overmatched in the debate. I remember but a sin- 
gle illustration in the speech of Elder Poindexter. ' ' Round- 
ness," he said, "is essential to a bullet ; beat it flat, and it will 
cease to be a bullet. So certain things — an authorized admin- 
istrator among them — are essential to baptism, and without 
these things it is not baptism." I made, so far as I can recol- 
lect, no attempt to reply. The Association decided by an over- 
whelming vote that Pedobaptist immersions are not valid bap- 
tisms. I was defeated, but not convinced. 

William H. Jordan was the central object of attraction at the 
meeting. He was nineteen years old, a widower, of pleasing 
appearance and manners, possessed of an ample fortune, had just 
been converted and baptized in a most extraordinary religious 
revival which prevailed in Bertie and the contiguous regions, 
and had entered the ministry coetaneously with his baptism. 
He preached in the Baptist church in Portsmouth, at night, to 
a crowded audience. His text was Eccl. xii: 1 : " Remember 
now thy Creator in the days of thy youth." Considering his 
age and inexperience, it was a remarkable sermon. . It was less 
pathetic and winning than the best efforts of Daniel Witt, but 
certainly equal, and probably superior, to them in fluency and 
in brilliancy of illustration. I went immediately from Ports- 
mouth to the first anniversary of the General Association, in 
Lynchburg, and reported that I had heard a young preacher 
in Portsmouth who was destined to be a rival of Whitefield in 
pulpit eloquence. 






THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 3L25- 

On the Sunday of the Association I preached for Brother 
Cornelius, in the Cumberland-street church, Norfolk, from the 
text, Rom. v: 1: ''Therefore being justified by faith, we have 
peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Of the ser- 
mon I retain no remembrance, except that it was delivered 
with freedom and pleasure, and secured words of approval and. 
encouragement from the pastor. 

This visit was to me an event of great interest. I had never 
before been so near the seaboard. The ships in the harbor 
and the navy-yard excited my wonder. At this time I made 
my first steamboat voyage. A small steamer conveyed me 
from Norfolk to Old Point Comfort, through Hampton Roads, 
which to my inexperienced eyes seemed to be an inland sea. 
At this time, or on some occasion shortly afterwards, I was at 
the Point with Major- General Gaines. He had greatly distin- 
guished himself in the war then not long passed. He was 
above the ordinary human height, but slender, well formed, of 
martial appearance, and in full military dress. He was received 
with great honor and display. A salute was fired, the military 
were paraded and passed under review, and all eyes were 
turned to him with admiration. 

Nothing, however, so deeply impressed me as Potter's 
Field — the burying-ground of the army of the then recent war. 
It was a field far less extensive than those in which the soldiers 
who fell in battle or died in the late war are buried near this 
city, but it was covered with graves, occupied by the undistin- 
guished dead who perished in the defense of their country, 
many of whom were my countymen, and a few of whom I had 
known in my boyhood. On visiting this repository of the dead, 
I fell into solemn and, I doubt not, profitable meditations on 
the brevity of life and the unutterable importance of the inter- 
ests suspended on it. I well remember that on a board at the 
head of some poor soldier's grave was painted a stanza from 
a familiar hymn, which I cannot definitely call to mind, urging 
sinners to repent. I had often seen, read, and sung the verse, 
but never had it made such an impression on my heart as when 
I saw it amid the unhonored graves of the deceased soldiers. 



126 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

The pleasure of my visit was greatly enhanced by my hos- 
pitable entertainment in the family of Dr. Schoolfield. A more 
pleasant and agreeable home I could not have had. For many 
years the Doctor's house was known as the attractive resort of 
Baptist ministers visiting Portsmouth. He was an intelligent 
and successful physician, a genial companion, and a generous 
friend, but in some respects quite peculiar. He was morbidly 
conscientious. He had been for many years a Baptist, but 
whether he was then in communion with the Church I cannot 
say. He was upright, temperate, prudent, and universally re- 
spected, but he was constantly despairing of his salvation. No 
one doubted his piety but himself, and his doubts arose from 
his offenses, which to others seemed mere trifles. On one oc- 
casion he made me his father-confessor. He was in deep sor- 
row and gloom, and anxious to learn whether his salvation was 
possible. This was the cause of his trouble and despair : When 
he was a boy (he was now nearly sixty years old) a house was 
burned in the town of Portsmouth. He and other boys gathered 
the iron from the ruins, sold it for a trifle, and divided the 
money among themselves. It did not occur to him till many 
years afterwards that the act was a theft. He endeavored earn- 
estly, but unsuccessfully, to find the person robbed, or his heirs, 
that he might restore the ill-gotten treasure. Failing in this 
effort, he paid to the mayor of the town a sum equal, as he 
supposed, to the amount which he obtained from the spoils, 
with interest down to the time of this settlement, to be dis- 
tributed among the poor. Yet his mind was not at ease. He 
wished me to tell him whether I thought it was possible for 
him to be saved without making reparation to the persons in- 
jured by the theft. I do not call to mind the counsel which I 
gave him, but I was convinced that he needed physic more 
than instruction. No teaching can heal a mind diseased. I 
pitied but greatly admired the man against whom a morbid, 
sensitive, searching conscience could find no graver accusation, 
in a period of forty years, than a boyish indiscretion. The Doc- 
tor became later in life a confirmed hypochondriac, and died, I 
think, as he had lived, almost or quite despairing of salvation. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 127 

In view of such an affliction, how consolatory and cheering are 
the words of the Psalmist : ' ' Like as a father, pitieth his chil- 
dren, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth 
our frame ; he remembereth that we are dust. ' ' 



XXVI. 

A MISSIONAR Y MEETING IN RICHMOND. 

IN December, 1824, if I mistake not, I attended the annual 
meeting of a missionary society in this city. In those days 
the subject of missions was fresh and inspiring ; a deep interest 
was felt in it from the comparatively recent return of Luther 
Rice from India, and his earnest sermons and appeals concern- 
ing it. Of the missionary meeting I can recollect but little. I 
have a vague impression that it was proposed to form a society 
to act throughout the State in behalf of foreign missions, as 
the General Association did in behalf of home missions ; but 
the plan was not carried into effect till some years afterwards. 
Rev. Luther Rice, Dr. William Staughton, Rev. John L. Dagg, 
and I know not what other ministers, were present. My recol- 
lections relate mainly to Staughton and Dagg. 

The sermon before the Missionary Society was preached by 
Brother Dagg. It was his first appearance in Richmond. He 
came, by invitation, from the county of Loudoun. He was 
twenty-eight years old ; was a cripple from a recent fall, and 
walked on a crutch ; was partially blind, and wore shades over 
his eyes ; and his raiment was plain and rustic, like that of 
country ministers generally. He was rather tall and spare, 
and, had he been free from his infirmities, his appearance would 
have been quite commanding. The service was held on a 
week-day morning, in the old Second Baptist church, where 
the General Association was organized the year before. The 
house was pretty well filled with an intelligent audience. In 
what degree their expectation was excited, I did not know, or, 
at least, do not now remember. After the preliminary services 
were over, the preacher took for his text Rom. i : 14 : "I am 
debtor both to the Greeks and to the barbarians ; both to the 
wise and to the unwise. ' ' His manner was calm and slow ; his 
voice was distinct and solemn ; his style was pure, condensed, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 129 

and vigorous ; his gestures were sparing but appropriate, and 
his thoughts were pertinent, weighty, and impressive. He 
aimed to prove that Paul was a debtor to the Greeks and bar- 
barians, etc. , not because of any kindness they had shown him, 
or any benefits which they had conferred on the world, but 
because a dispensation of the gospel had been committed unto 
him. Among his hearers was the ex- Governor of the State, 
Thomas M. Randolph. He -stood not far from the pulpit, on 
the right hand of the speaker, with his shoulder turned towards 
him, and his eyes directed to the floor or the entrance to the 
church. Why he stood, I know not, as doubtless a seat was 
offered him ; but stand he did, almost as motionless as a statue. 
Near the close of his sermon, Dagg, with his face turned to the 
wall, drew an imaginary and most graphic picture of a Druid 
priest, closing the description with the words : ' ' This man is our 
father." The imperturbable Governor suddenly turned his. 
head and gazed on the wall, as if to see the picture which had 
been so vividly drawn. The audience were spellbound by the 
sermon. They thought but little of the preacher, but much of 
the momentous truths which he had so clearly presented to their 
minds. I have rarely been so deeply impressed by a sermon. 
Some allowance must be made for my limited knowledge of 
preachers and of sermons ; but I deemed it in style and manner 
the most unexceptionable of all the sermons which I had then 
heard. It was not impassioned, not powerful ; but it was in 
good taste, and a most solemn and instructive discourse. Of 
all the discourses to which I was permitted to listen it exerted the 
greatest influence over my own manner of preaching. I fell into 
an unconscious and unavoidable imitation of his. style, which, I 
am sorry to say, never gave any just conception of the original. 
Dagg preached again on Sunday night, in the old First Bap- 
tist church, on the conversion of the thief on the cross. It was 
an admirable discourse, designed to illustrate and prove the 
sovereignty of God in the conversion of sinners. It was, per- 
haps, as well adapted to do good, but not so polished and 
graceful a sermon as his first. The two sermons established the 
reputation of the preacher in Richmond. 



130 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Dr. Staughton was an Englishman by birth and education, 
but had resided long in the city of Philadelphia. He was 
probably the most popular Baptist preacher in the United 
States. His appearance clearly indicated his nationality. He 
was not tall, but corpulent, with well-formed features, a fine 
head, and bright, piercing eyes ; was elegantly attired, and, on 
the whole, a very attractive person. At that time he was presi- 
dent of Columbian College, District of Columbia, then an insti- 
tution exciting great interest and inspiring high hopes. He 
had been selected for the responsible position on account of 
his learning and his commanding influence. 

The Doctor delivered his first sermon on this occasion at 
night in the First Baptist church. Of the congregation I re- 
member nothing, but infer, from the reputation of the preacher 
and the interest of the occasion, that it was large. His text 
was : "I am crucified with Christ : nevertheless I live ; yet not 
I, but Christ liveth in me : and the life which I now live in the 
flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and 
gave himself for me. ' ' I remember but little of the sermon. I 
am convinced, from the reputation of the preacher, the excel- 
lence of some of his printed sermons which I read, and from the 
estimate of his ministrations formed by many of his intelligent 
admirers, that the discourse was sound, instructive, and well 
suited to be useful. I will give my impressions of it at the time, 
promising that proper deductions should be made for the imma- 
turity of my taste. I was painfully impressed by the seeming 
affectation and pomposity of the preacher. His voice, his 
gestures, his reading, and his preaching, all appeared to be 
artificial and studied. I sat in front of him, and so offensive 
was his manner to my taste that I closed my eyes, and would 
have shut my ears had it been possible. 

The Doctor preached again in the First church on Sunday 
morning, to a crowded audience, from the words : "For we 
have not followed cunningly devised fables, when we made 
known unto you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, but were eye-witnesses of his majesty." He drew a 
striking contrast between the heathen mythologies and the 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 131 

evangelical history. One point of the contrast I distinctly re- 
member. The mythologies were dateless : the evangelical 
history contained a minute statement of facts to establish its 
date. In confirmation of this last position he quoted Luke iii : 
1-2 : ' ' Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius 
Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod 
being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of 
Iturea and of the region of Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch 
of Abilene, Annas and Caiaphas being the high priests, the 
word of God came unto John the son of Zacharias in the wil- 
derness." This passage surely bears no resemblance to a 
myth. The sermon was able, delivered in classic style, and in 
the usual manner of the Doctor. It seemed to me to be less 
affected than his previous discourse, but still strikingly stilted 
and formal. I was afterwards assured by Dr. R. B. C. Howell, 
who was a student and great admirer of Dr. Staughton, that 
my impression of his manner of preaching was quite common 
with persons who heard him only a few times, but that it was 
effaced with those who heard him frequently by his real earnest- 
ness and the solidity and splendor of his discourses. 

It was a rare thing for two ministers, one of such elevated 
position, and the other of such prospective distinction, as Drs. 
Staughton and Dagg, to meet, in that day, in the city of Rich- 
mond. They were both heard with profound interest and 
admiration by the crowds which attended on their ministra- 
tions ; but the country preacher, with his rustic appearance 
and unpretending manners, bore away the palm. That he 
should have done it before a Richmond audience was not 
strange. Sectional jealousy had no share in the decision — it 
had not then been quickened into activity ; but sectional taste 
had probably much to do with it. The preaching of Dagg was 
of a style to which the citizens of Richmond had long been 
accustomed — a style plain, direct, and solemn, rather than 
imaginative, ornate, and grand. Quite probable it is that had 
the comparison been made between these pulpit orators in 
Philadelphia or Boston the judgment would have been reversed. 
We know from our own observation that the opinions of a com- 



132 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

munity of the gifts of preachers are greatly modified by their 
training and the ministry to which they have been accustomed. 

Dr. Staughton died in a short time after his visit to Rich- 
mond, and I never saw him again. He was in the full maturity 
of his mind, in fine health, with the promise of many years of 
usefulness, and favored with national and unsurpassed popu- 
larity, when he was cut down. His death was a loss to the 
Baptist denomination. Of Dr. Dagg I need say but little. 
His brilliant career, amid bodily infirmities and sufferings, is 
well known to the public. He has been equally distinguished 
by the clearness of his intellect, the purity of his taste, the 
extent of his knowledge, the value of his theological works, 
and his shrinking modesty. He still lingers on the shore of 
mortality, having passed his four-score years, waiting the call 
to cross the river and receive his crown. 

In these eminent ministers we see the diversities of gifts with 
which God endows his servants, adapting them to different 
spheres of activity and to the diversified capacities and tastes 
of men ; and it was a singular circumstance that Dagg, differ- 
ing so widely from Staughton in culture and gifts, should have 
been selected as his successor in the pastorate of the Sansom- 
street Baptist church, in Philadelphia, an office from which he 
retired to assume the presidency of Mercer University, Georgia. 



XXVII. ■ 
ALEXANDER CAMPBELL. 

I FIRST saw Mr. Campbell at the Dover Association, held 
at Upper Essex meeting-house, Essex county, Va., in Octo- 
ber, 1825. His fame had preceded him. His debate on Bap- 
tism with Rev. William L. McCalla, a Presbyterian minister, 
had been pretty widely circulated, and produced the impres- 
sion that he was a man of great learning and an invincible de- 
fender of Baptist principles. His preaching at several places 
in the upper counties of the State, as he approached the Asso- 
ciation, had increased his reputation and the desire to hear 
him preach. He was thirty-six years old, above the ordinary 
height, rather spare, and not particularly attractive in appear- 
ance. There was a general desire at the Association to see 
him and to hear him preach. 

John Bryce (if my memory is not at fault), John Kerr, and 
Alexander Campbell were appointed to occupy the stage on 
Lord's-day. The congregation, as usual on such occasions, 
was very large. Bryce preached first. Kerr, as was invaria- 
bly the case, preached last, for the reason that no minister was 
willing to preach after him. Campbell delivered the second 
discourse, which, in those days, was generally considered the 
post of honor. The sermon of Bryce was short, and made but 
little impression on the audience. Campbell had a favorable 
opportunity for displaying his powers. On a calm autumnal 
day a vast crowd was intent to hear the renowned stranger. 
After the lapse of more than half a century I can furnish but 
a meagre report of his discourse. 

Mr. Campbell read the twenty-eighth chapter of Matthew, and 
took for his text the apostolic commission, verses 19, 20: "Go 
ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name 
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching 
them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: 



134 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. 
Amen." His sermon was not expository, but discursive. It 
contained nothing on the import of baptism or the subjects of 
the ordinance, but was a discussion of the methods of evangel- 
izing the world in the apostolic age. He dwelt largely on the 
fact that the disciples, dispersed by the persecution that arose 
after the death of Stephen, "went everywhere preaching the 
word." He drew a graphic description of the conversations 
of the wandering disciples concerning the things which they 
had seen and learned in the city of Jerusalem, and the effects 
produced by them. The promise — "lo, I am with you alway, 
even unto the end of the world" — he expounded as having 
exclusive reference to the apostles, and the ' - end of the world ' ' 
as meaning the end of the age — that is, the lives of the apostles. 
The sermon was probably from an hour to an hour and a half 
in length, and was heard to the close with unflagging atten- 
tion. 

The impressions made by the discourse were quite diverse. 
The old and experienced Baptists generally shook their heads 
in disapprobation of it. It was not the kind of preaching to 
which they had been accustomed and by which they had been 
nourished. To them it lacked the marrow and fatness of the 
gospel. Semple, Broaddus, and the fathers of the Association 
stood in doubt of Brother Campbell. They saw that he had 
abilities which might be usefully employed, but his preaching 
was not distinctively evangelical. It was notable rather for 
what it concealed than for what it revealed. It might have been 
delivered by a Unitarian, or a mere formalist, without any in- 
congruity. It was hoped, however, that association with Bap- 
tists and a more careful study of the Scriptures would soon 
correct any errors into which he had fallen. For my own part 
I was quite captured by the sermon. It contained food for 
thought, and my mind was so occupied by its speculations that 
I scarcely paid respectful attention to the preaching of Kerr, 
which immediatly followed it, though I had never heard him 
before. Some allowance must be made for my inexperience 
and my imperfect knowledge of the Scriptures. I was but 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 135 

little more than twenty-three years old, and my theological 
training had been very defective. The discourse was new in 
its style, fresh in its matter, and well suited to interest the 
young and speculative. 

The day after the close of the Association Mr. Campbell 
preached at Bruington meeting-house, King and Queen county. 
His text was I Corinthians xiii : 13 : " Now abideth faith, hope, 
charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." Of 
the sermon I remember nothing, except that it was of the same 
indefinite sort as the former. There was nothing to indicate 
whether he was a Trinitarian or a Unitarian, a Calvinist or an 
Arminian, a believer in spiritual or baptismal regeneration. 

On the next day I travelled with him and several of the dele- 
gates to the Association from the neighborhood of Bruington 
to the city of Richmond. He rode in a buggy, having a 
daughter nearly grown with him. As I was on horseback I 
had a favorable opportunity of cultivating his acquaintance. I 
can recollect but little that occurred on the route, except a dis- 
cussion we had on the subject of missions. It was then a fresh 
and stirring theme of conversation and of public discourse. 
Mr. Campbell was not avowedly opposed to missions, but he 
condemned all the methods of propagating the knowledge of 
the gospel then adopted by evangelical Christians. He believed, 
so far as I could understand and can now remember his views, 
that the progress of Christianity must be by a natural out- 
growth. Men should teach their neighbors the word of God, 
and they in turn should communicate it to persons nearest to 
them, and thus it would gradually be spread throughout the 
world. His method of evangelization had been shadowed 
forth in his remarks at the Association on the labors of the 
disciples scattered by the death of Stephen. He maintained 
that the sending of missionaries to preach the gospel to the 
heathen was utterly futile. He compared it to an attempt to 
cut down a majestic oak with a pen-knife. I heartily dissented 
from his views, and we entered into an earnest discussion on 
the subject, which ended, as most discussions do, without any 
change of opinion. I know not what judgment he formed of 



136 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

my arguments. I certainly received the impression that his 
were not invincible. 

In Richmond he preached at night in the Second Baptist 
church, to a small congregation, assembled for the stated ser- 
vice, from Matthew xvi: 18: "And I say unto thee, that thou 
art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the 
gates of hell shall not prevail against it." He maintained that 
the Church was founded on the doctrine expressed in Peter's 
confession : ' ' Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God. ' ' 
The sermon gave no uncertain sound as to his views of the 
character of Roman Catholicism. 

Here I parted with Mr. Campbell, and saw him no more till 
he sat in the State Convention for amending the constitution, 
in 1829-30. I spent a few days in Richmond during its ses- 
sion, but saw very little of him. He added nothing to his fame 
by his labors as a statesman. Some persons thought that he 
did not receive due respect in the convention, because he was 
a clergyman. It is more probable that his want of influence in 
the body arose from his lack of training in statesmanship and 
the speculative character of his mind. I have a vague recol- 
lection that in a speech before the convention he laid down a 
number of propositions, drawn from the Scriptures, which, 
whether true or false, were of little importance in drafting a 
State constitution. 

Before I saw Mr. Campbell again great religious changes had 
taken place. His followers, or those who adopted his views, 
had been separated from the Baptist churches and organized 
into an independent denomination. I had written Campbellism 
Examined and Campbellism Re-examined. The Disciples held 
a meeting in Richmond some twenty years ago, and Mr. Camp- 
bell was present. I expressed to some of his friends my readi- 
ness to call on him as a matter of courtesy, if the call would be 
agreeable to him. Receiving the assurance that the courtesy 
would be accepted with pleasure, I visited him at his lodgings, 
in company with Dr. J. L. Burrows. We were received with 
civility, but with evident restraint. He was greatly changed 
in appearance since I first saw him. He was increased in flesh, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 137 

but bore the unmistakable marks of old age and growing 
infirmities.- I had resolved that I would not refer to our past 
controversies, or to points concerning which we differed, but 
that, if he should introduce them, I would not plead on the 
defensive. He very soon alluded to these matters. His views, 
he said, had been misunderstood and misrepresented; he had 
been treated with great injustice. To these complaints I made 
no reply, but proceeded at once to say that he had propagated 
one doctrine which he owed it to himself, to his friends, and to 
the Christian world, to correct — it is, that baptism and regenera- 
tion in the Scriptures meant the same thing. On this subject 
our conversation turned. He did not retract the statement, but 
offered such explanation of it. as may be found in his volumi- 
nous writings. It is, in substance, that baptism is not the whole, 
but the finishing act of regeneration; that there can be no regen- 
eration without baptism. His explanation was as unsatisfactory 
to me as my criticisms were to him. With this discussion we 
closed our interview, with due courtesy without cordiality. 

It may, perhaps, be proper for me to give briefly my views 
of the talents and character of Mr. Campbell. Due allowance 
should be made for the perversion of my judgment, which may 
have resulted from our long-continued controversy and spar- 
ring. We were earnest and sharp, but not bitter, in our dis- 
cussions. I was never his enemy, and now that he is incapable 
of self-defense, I would surely do his memory no known injus- 
tice. Still, as he was a public man, and destined to exert no 
slight posthumous influence, I may speak of him with candor 
and caution. 

Mr. Campbell was a man of learning, of much miscellaneous 
information, and of great readiness and fecundity of mind. His 
learning, as already stated, was various rather than profound, 
and his imaginative far exceeded his rationative power. There 
was, in my humble judgment, a screw loose in his mental ma- 
chinery, which became more obvious as he grew older, and 
terminated in downright monomania. No writer within my 
knowledge ever repeated his thoughts so frequently, wrote so 
much that needed explanation, or so glaringly and often con- 



138 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

tradicted himself, as he did. This is all explicable on the sup- 
position that he labored under an idiosyncrasy which was 
gradually developed into mental derangement. This supposi- 
tion, too, vindicates him in making statements which could 
hardly have been made by a sound and well-balanced mind 
without guilt. With this ground of defense, I have no hesita- 
tion in expressing the opinion that he was a good man. His 
life was devoted to an earnest and fearless advocacy of princi- 
ples which, in the main, were right. The supreme and exclu- 
sive authority of the Scriptures in religion, immersion the only 
baptism, and believers the only subjects of the ordinance, and 
church independence, are important doctrines which he held 
in common with Baptists, and most zealously defended. He 
wrote, too, many valuable articles on matters of faith and prac- 
tice, along, we must think, with much that was visionary and 
erratic. With the exception of statements easily traced to a 
disordered imagination, his life was pure and in perfect harmony 
with the principles he espoused and spent his long life in de- 
fending. 



XXVIII. 

MY SOJOURN IN CAMPBELL COUNTY. 

I NEVER considered my residence in Sussex county per- 
manent. I was not a pastor of any church, and had no 
prospect of being called to any pastorate in that region from 
which I could derive a support. In the spring of 1826 I was 
invited, through the influence of my venerable friend, Rev. 
Abner W. Clopton, to take charge of two small churches in 
Campbell county (Hill's Creek and Union Hill), and to preach 
statedly at two other places in their vicinity (the Grove and 
the Red House, where churches had not been formed), with a 
reasonable prospect of support. My residence in the county 
was short, and attended with few important consequences 
known to me. Some facts may be worthy of record. 

Among my hearers at the Grove was Samuel Pannill, Esq. 
He was, in the true sense of the word, a Virginia gentleman. 
He was not highly educated, but was endowed with a mascu- 
line intellect, which was well stored with the fruits of reading 
and observation. He was a man of wealth, high social posi- 
tion, occupying a place in the State Board of Public Works, 
and exerting a wide influence, but was not a Christian. I have- 
mentioned him to record his testimony concerning Rev. John 
Leland. Mr. Pannill resided in Orange county, and attended 
on his ministry when Mr. Leland preached there. He asserted 
that he had never seen a minister that possessed so great a gift 
to attract and hold the attention of an audience as Mr. Leland 
had. Mr. Pannill' s conversation abounded in illustrations of 
the attractiveness and power of the preacher's eloquence, and 
his testimony was in harmony with that of all the persons who 
heard him and have left their opinions on record. 

In the winter of 1826-27 I boarded in the family of Mr. 
Thomas Hamlet, in the western extremity of Charlotte county. 
It was one of the coldest winters which I have known in Vir- 



140 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

ginia. The ice was more than a foot thick on the ponds. On 
one of the coldest days of the season I had an appointment to 
preach a dozen miles distant from my residence. I was unde- 
cided about making the trip, but ventured to attempt it. 
Finding the air so severe I turned back, but again changed 
my course. Five times, in my indecision, I rode over a portion 
of the road, but finally continued my journey to the place of 
my appointment. Almost frozen, I reached it, and found a 
small congregation awaiting my arrival. After becoming 
warm, I preached with unusual freedom and fervency. As 
the result of the sermon, a young lady present, of respectable 
connections, was awakened and converted. In the spring, at 
her father's residence, in a remote part of the county, I had 
the pleasure of baptizing her, in a neighborhood where Baptists 
and their principles were little known. I deemed it proper to 
preach on the subject of baptism. A lady present — of intelli- 
gent appearance, a stranger to me — became offended at my 
remarks. Her face was suffused and her eyes flashed with 
indignation. Perceiving her excitement, I instantly lowered 
my voice and made conciliatory remarks. Her passion abated, 
and I proceeded with my discourse. I had not advanced far 
before her wrath was kindled again, and I was compelled to 
resort to soothing words to allay it. Perhaps half a dozen 
times during the service her temper was aroused by my 
remarks, and as often I checked it by kind and softening 
words. I was careful to leave her in a good humor, but she 
had no conception, nor had any person present any knowledge, 
of the entire control I exerted over her feelings. More than 
seventeen years after this event I met the lady whom I bap- 
tized, in the State of Missouri, still maintaining and adorning 
her Christian profession. I have recorded this case mainly 
that ministers may be encouraged to prosecute their labors 
through difficulties. "In the morning sow thy seed, in the 
evening hold not thy hand : for thou knowest not whether 
shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be 
alike good." 

In the summer of 1826, the Appomattox Association was 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 141 

held at the Rocks meeting-house, in Prince Edward county, 
near the residence of the venerable Phillip Matthews, pastor of 
the church, who died some years later, leaving a fragrant 
memory in all that region. I was present at the meeting, but 
remember little of its proceedings. Luther Rice, then in the 
zenith of his powers, was there. He was tall, large, well-pro- 
portioned, of ruddy complexion, and plain and careless in his 
dress. He was appointed, with Eli Ball and Daniel Witt, to 
preach on Lord's-day. A large assembly was gathered under 
an arbor. Rice preached first, and from the text, I Corin- 
thians, i : 21 : " For after that in the wisdom of God the world 
by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of 
preaching to save them that believe." I had heard Rice 
preach before, and heard him frequently afterwards, but never 
did I hear him preach as he did on that occasion. He had not 
the grace of Andrew Broaddus nor the pathos of John Kerr, 
but his sermon was marked by a sublimity, a grandeur of 
thought, and a strength of expression which I have never 
heard excelled, and, I think, I have never heard equalled. 
The congregation were not melted, but were electrified, over- 
whelmed, filled with wonder, and on the point of breaking 
out in rapturous strains of praise. When Rice sat down the 
audience was under intense excitement. Ball and Witt made 
a great mistake in attempting to follow him. They were good 
preachers — capable of interesting and instructing almost any 
audience. Witt, especially, was remarkable for the uniformity 
of his preaching and the certainty of succeeding well on im- 
portant occasions. Success, however, in contrast with the ser- 
mon of Rice was impossible. Both preachers made deplorable 
failures. As compared with the eloquence of Rice, their dis- 
courses seemed as the spurting of water from a cask in contrast 
with the falls of Niagara. 

One matter brought before the Association I remember. 
Rev. Abner W. Clopton was a prominent, indeed, the leading 
member of the Association. He was the most devout, earn- 
est, self-denying, and laborious minister that I have known. 
His piety, however, was gloomy and ascetic. Many things 



142 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

approved, or at least tolerated, by other ministers, were 
fiercely condemned by him. He was an earnest anti-Mason. 
He offered a resolution in the Association not merely disap- 
proving Masonry, but, if I recollect rightly, advising the expul- 
sion of Masons from the churches. Rice was a Mason. He 
had, however, long ceased to attend the lodges. He was a 
nominal, not an active Mason. He did not encourage his 
brethren to unite with the order, but he was a defender of 
Christian liberty. When the resolution was offered he rose 
and expressed his cordial submission to the teaching of the 
Scriptures. Whatever they condemned he rejected. He pro- 
posed, therefore, that the mover of the resolution should attach 
certain Scriptures to it to show its divine authority. Clopton 
had not anticipated this opposition. He was profoundly con- 
vinced that Baptists should not be Masons, but to quote Scrip- 
tures in support of his opinion was not easy. After some delay, 
and to avoid discord, the resolution was withdrawn. 

So far as I know no Baptist Association in Virginia has 
advised its churches to exclude Masons from their fellowship. 
With few exceptions, our ministers and the members of our 
churches generally have deemed it inexpedient and undesira- 
ble for Baptists to become Masons, but they have respected 
the rights and wishes of their brethren who have dissented from 
their views and united with the order. 

My residence in Campbell did not continue a year. ' ' It is 
not in man that walketh to direct his steps." I had previously 
been invited to settle in the Northern Neck, but had positively 
declined the invitation. My marriage, however, in that region, 
and the death of a resident pastor, which widened the field and 
increased the need of ministerial labor there, changed my pur- 
pose. I left my temporary residence, where I had formed 
many pleasant associations and had a fair prospect of useful- 
ness, to live and labor in a field consecrated by the devotions, 
toils, and successes of Straughan and Lunsford, two of the most 
eminent Baptist ministers to whom Virginia had given birth. 



XXIX. 

THE NORTHERN NECK. 

THE peninsula between the Rappahannock and the Poto- 
mac rivers, bounded on the east by the Chesapeake bay, 
is called the Northern Neck, because it lies on the northern 
border of the State. It is distinguished as the birth-place of 
Washington, Madison, Monroe, the Lees, and other persons 
famous in American history. It was consecrated in my eyes 
as the abode and field of labor of Samuel L. Straughan and 
Lewis Lunsford, two Baptist ministers, who had left behind 
them a fragrant reputation. I was desirous to visit the region 
and occupy the pulpits honored by the presence and the min- 
istration of these venerable men. 

At the Dover Association, held in Essex county, in the year 
1825, where I first saw John Kerr and Alexander Campbell, I 
met several brethren from Lancaster county, seeking a pastor 
for Morattico Baptist church. Through their solicitation, I 
made arrangements to visit them at the close of the year. On 
Christmas morning I left the city of Richmond, on horseback, 
in company with the late Rev. Addison Hall — not then a min- 
ister, but a member of the Virginia Legislature — who availed 
himself of the holidays to visit his family in Lancaster. There 
was nothing of special interest in the trip ; but my arrival in 
the Northern Neck was an epoch in my life. It had no little 
influence on my destiny. The Neck was to be for some years 
the scene of toils, anxieties, pleasures, and sorrows which were 
to exert a moulding power over my character. 

The first event that I remember after reaching the peninsula 
was a trifle that might well have been forgotten. Colonel Hall, 
on meeting one of his neighbors, saidjto him : "How are you, 
Mr. G.?" "About," he replied, "all to a bad cold." He 
was about, in spite of his cold, with no mark of disease upon 



144 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

him. I afterwards found the expression common among a peo- 
ple quite remarkable for the purity of their English. 

My first night in the Neck was passed at Merry Point, the 
residence of my honorable guide. Here I met for the only 
time Rev. Daniel Davis, of Fredericksburg, who was on a 
preaching tour through the peninsula. He was a brother of 
Elder John Davis, under whose ministry I had been awakened 
some years before in Bedford county ; of medium size, about 
sixty years old, and of rather rugged appearance. He differed 
widely from his brother John in spirit, views, and manner of 
preaching. He was not opposed to missions, but held extreme 
Calvinistic doctrines, bordering on antinomianism. It was my 
misfortune to get into such a controversy with him as I had 
had, a few years before, with his namesake of Henry county. 
They bore, in many respects, a striking resemblance to each 
other. They were both endowed with vigorous minds, had 
small culture, held extreme doctrinal views, were leaders in 
their respective spheres, impatient of contradiction, and over- 
bearing in debate. I had not proceeded far in the discussion 
before I was imperatively ordered by my antagonist to hush. 
The command was probably wise ; and while I questioned his 
authority to issue it, I promptly obeyed it. 

Here I was first introduced to Deacon Rawleigh Dunaway, 
the grandfather of Dr. Dunaway, of Fredericksburg, a man of 
peculiar and striking qualities — one of the warmest friends that 
I have had in the journey of life, and whom I shall have occa- 
sion to mention again. 

My first sermon in the Neck was preached to a good con- 
gregation in Lancaster court-house, on the 1st day of January r 
1826, from the text, if I mistake not, Phil, hi: 8 : "Yea doubt- 
less, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the 
knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. ' ' Of the sermon and of 
the occasion I remember but little. 

On this visit to the Northern Neck I spent several weeks, 
and preached at all the Baptist meeting-houses in Lancaster 
and Northumberland, at Farnham church, in Richmond county, 
besides in several private houses. The trip was to me, on 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 145 

various accounts, interesting and pleasant. The people were 
hospitable, kind, and sociable. I formed an acquaintance with 
many brethren notable for their intelligence, piety, and useful- 
ness — disciples of Straughan and Lunsford, whose memories 
were redolent in all the region. Few could remember Luns- 
ford, but anecdotes of the sermons, sayings, and deeds of 
Straughan dwelt on almost every tongue. He must have pos- 
sessed a rare power of impressing his hearers. I have seldom 
conversed with a man who heard him preach that did not 
remember his text, his manner of treating it, and many of his 
illustrations and remarks. Yet I never talked with a man who 
had heard both Straughan and Lunsford preach that did not 
give the preference to the latter. In judging, however, of their 
comparative abilities, it should be remembered that the wit- 
nesses heard Lunsford in their youth, while their judgments 
were immature, and heard Straughan in their maturity, when 
their taste was refined and their acumen was sharpened by 
exercise. They were both extraordinary men for their times 
and their circumstances. With small advantages for mental 
culture, and few sources of religious information, they became, 
through the native vigor of their minds, their studious habits 
and their close observations, preachers of rare eloquence, 
power, and success, who would have adorned the pulpit in any 
land and in any age. I drank in with delight the stories of 
their labors and achievements, and deemed it an honor to 
preach in the pulpits which they consecrated, and to the con- 
gregations which once sat under their enrapturing ministry. 

After I had spent a short time in the Neck I was invited to 
the pastorate of Morattico church. Its membership had been 
much reduced since the days of Straughan, but it was still 
a respectable body, containing many estimable members. I 
promptly declined the call, for three reasons : First, the region 
was isolated, having in those days, before it was visited by 
steamboats, but little intercourse with the rest of the world. 
It was then quite a trip to get beyond the limits of the penin- 
sula. Secondly, I feared the malarial diseases more or less 
prevalent every autumn. The apprehension was not imaginary. 



146 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

After my settlement there I had several sharp and protracted 
biliary attacks. Thirdly, the country was in an impoverished 
and depressed condition. It had not recovered from the inju- 
ries inflicted on it by the then recent war with Great Britain. 
Perhaps no portion of the United States had suffered more 
severely from the conflict than the Northern Neck, The enemy 
kept a large and unresisted fleet in the Chesapeake bay during 
the war, and the Neck was bordered on three sides by deep, 
navigable water, and intersected by many bold and undefended 
streams. It was entirely at the mercy of the enemy, and they 
made good, or rather bad, use of their irresponsible power. 
A large number of slaves was enticed away, many valuable 
dwellings were reduced to ashes, the country was pillaged, and 
the inhabitants lived in constant dread of arrest or spoliation. 
Many of the best and most thrifty settlers, unwilling to live in 
such constant peril and alarm, sold their lands, at greatly 
reduced prices, or left them without tenants, and removed to 
the upper country. The Neck was slowly recovering from the 
evils inflicted upon it by the war, but it was far from being 
what it was in the favored times of the past, or what it became 
a few years afterwards. 

From these considerations, I deemed it my duty and my 
interest to decline the invitation so kindly extended to me. I 
left the Neck, with many regrets, to return to my Sussex 
home. My removal to Campbell county soon followed. I 
had no expectation of residing in the peninsula. God's 
thoughts are not as our thoughts, neither are our ways his 
ways. Already influences were in operation which changed 
my purpose. These influences I need not detail. After my 
short stay in Campbell, I removed, in the autumn of 1827, to 
the Northern Neck, and I was installed pastor of Morattico 
Baptist church, at Kilmarnock meeting-house, in Lancaster 
county. It was organized in the year 1778 by Lewis Lunsford, 
who continued his pastorate till near the close of the century, 
when he was succeeded by Elder Jacob Creath for a few years, 
and afterwards by Straughan, who was my immediate prede- 
cessor. The sermon on the occasion of my installation was 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 147 

preached by Rev. Eli Ball, of Henrico county. I do not 
remember the sermon or the text, but they were deemed ap- 
propriate to the occasion, and the services made a fine impres- 
sion on the large congregation in attendance. This was really 
my first pastorate. I was neither in form nor in fact pastor of 
churches in Campbell. One was, I think, under the pastor- 
ship of Elder Johns, and the other was a small body which I 
served as a stated preacher only for a few months. 



XXX. 

CHANGES IN THE NORTHERN NECK. 

IT had been more than six years from the death of Straughan 
before I became pastor of Morattico church. During this 
time a great change had taken place in the religious condition 
of the community. The pulpit had been only occasionally, 
and not very profitably, supplied with preaching. Wicomico 
church, in Northumberland county, had called to the pastorate 
a young man, Rev. Eli S. Patterson, who died in a short time, 
leaving the church entirely destitute of the regular ministra- 
tions of the Word. At the death of Straughan the churches 
were large, prosperous, and aggressive, but in half a dozen 
years, receiving no accessions, they had been greatly reduced 
in numbers by deaths, removals, and apostasies, and in effi- 
ciency by the lack of instruction and leadership. 

The Northern Neck was included within the limit of the 
Baltimore Methodist Conference, one of the ablest and best 
organized of all their conferences. It sent strong, earnest, and 
active ministers into the counties rendered vacant by the death 
of Straughan. They penetrated every nook and corner of the 
country, and wrought a great revolution in the religious views 
and preferences of the people. A very large majority of the 
population became Methodists, or were brought under Method- 
ist influence. 

I commenced my labors in the Neck under great disadvan- 
tages. Not only were the Methodists exerting a preponderating 
influence, but preach when or where I might, my appointment 
was almost sure to be in conflict with some Methodist meeting. 
They, too, had almost invariably something to attract a con- 
gregation beyond the simple merits of their preachers. Some- 
times circuit-riders would be preaching their introductory and 
sometimes their valedictory sermons. Quarterly meetings, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 149 

camp-meetings, and other extraordinary services filled up 
almost every Sunday and constantly attracted the crowd. 

One circumstance was much in my favor. Baptists were 
comparatively few, but they were mostly of excellent quality. 
They were gold tried in the fire. The unstable and the un- 
principled had been carried away as chaff before the wind ; but 
the sincere, the firmly grounded, and the devout remained as 
the well-winnowed wheat. The Wicomico church was soon 
included in my pastorate, and no bishop ever had more con- 
fiding, affectionate, earnest, and efficient helpers than I had. 

I remained in the Northern Neck to the beginning of the 
year 1836 — a little more than nine years. It was probably the 
most important period of my life. A great and striking change 
took place in the field of my labor during this period. I bap- 
tized about one thousand persons, nearly an equal number of 
whites and of negroes. Among the whites were many of the 
most intelligent, respectable, and influential persons in the 
counties of Lancaster and Northumberland. My congregations 
became large, and were intelligent and respectful, as well as 
respectable. Long before I left that region it was a matter of 
indifference to me what new or old circuit-rider or popular 
presiding elder was to preach in the vicinity of my meetings. 
My congregations could not be materially diminished. 

I may mention a fact illustrative of the change which had 
taken place. During my residence in the* Neck I was sued 
for slander. Of all the events of my life it seemed to be 
most promotive of my interests. I need not give the details 
of the case. The suit was brought on a misconception. I had 
not slandered the plaintiff, but, if opportunity had offered, 
would have shown him favor. There was, however, great ex- 
citement in the community on the subject — some favoring and 
some condemning me. For my own part, I was thoroughly 
mortified and humbled. I have never prayed so earnestly, 
never preached so pathetically, and never labored so dilligently 
as during that season of trial and anxiety. Inquiry and a. 
candid statement of the cause of offense turned the public 
sympathy in my favor. A great religious revival ensued. I 



150 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

baptized a large number of the inhabitants of the county. When 
the trial ( came on at Northumberland Courthouse no jury could 
have been summoned indiscriminately the half of whom would 
not have been Baptists. The clerk and sheriffs were Baptists. 
The judge directed the high sheriff, some of whose family I 
liad recently baptized, to summon a jury that should have no 
Baptists on it. Faithfully, no doubt, he performed the service, 
but summoned three or four persons whom I expected to bap- 
tize at my next meeting in the neighborhood. The suit broke 
down from the failure of the plaintiff to prove the statements 
in his declaration ; but had he been entitled to damages the 
jury would have been under a strong bias against awarding 
them. 

Several causes contributed to the success of my ministrations 
in the Northern Neck. Among these I may mention my per- 
manent residence among the people. The circuit-riders were 
mostly intelligent, pious, and attractive preachers, but they 
were comparatively strangers. They did not remain on their 
circuits long enough to become intimate with the people. 
While their preaching had the attractiveness of novelty, they 
lacked the influence secured by friendship and intimacy. I 
met the people at their court-houses, took part in measures 
designed to promote their secular interests, visited them at their 
bomes, sympathized in their afflictions, rejoiced in their pros- 
perity, and, in short, became identified with them in interest. 
They considered me, not only as a Christian pastor, but as a 
fellow-citizen concerned with themselves in the permanent 
welfare of the country. In deciding whether they would attend 
my ministry or that of a stranger, if their religious principles 
were not settled, they were usually governed not so much by 
a regard to talents or novelty as by friendship and by sectional 
partiality. I became convinced that in rural districts at least 
an itinerant ministry cannot successfully compete with settled 
pastors of equal gifts and activity. 

It is also proper to state that my success in the Northern 
Neck was largely due to the aid that I received from visiting- 
ministers. The camp-meetings, of which notice will be taken 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 151 

in future articles, and other protracted religious services, in 
which I was assisted by ministers of rare gifts for usefulness, 
had a large share in building up the churches and turning 
public sentiment in favor of the Baptists. 

The period of my residence in the Northern Neck was proba- 
bly the time most potential in the formation of my character 
and the development of my gifts — of which, by the way, I have 
no cause to boast. I had full scope for the exercise of my 
powers. I labored diligently and faithfully, and never preached 
a sermon which I did not think I could excel, and which I did 
not earnestly endeavor to excel. By such reading as my de- 
sultory and constant labors would permit, by diligent studies 
(performed chiefly on horseback or in a sulky), and by the fre- 
quent exercise of my gifts, I made such attainments in knowl- 
edge and in the art of employing it usefully as I could. I 
mention these facts for the encouragement of young men who, 
thirsting for knowledge that they may be useful, with small 
opportunities for its acquirement, may find some inspiration in 
my example. 

In the autumn of 1835 I was invited to the pastorate of the 
First Baptist church, of this city. The honor was by me un- 
sought and unexpected. I have made a few changes in my 
ministerial life, and usually with great anxiety, doubtfulness, 
and sorrow. I accepted, after a short delay, the invitation to 
settle in Richmond without a lingering doubt of the propriety 
of the measure. During my residence in the Northern Neck 
two young men had been called into the ministry and solemnly 
ordained to the work — Col. Addison Hall and Dr. William H. 
Kirk — the latter baptized by me and the former by Straughan. 
They were men of piety, culture, useful gifts, and high respect- 
ability. They were well fitted to occupy the field in which I 
was laboring ; but while I remained in it, being older in the 
ministry and pastor of the churches, it was not probable that 
their talents would be fully developed or successfully employed. 
It was more convenient for me to change my location than it 
was for them. I followed the leading of Providence, and never 
have had cause to regret my course. Hall and Kirk became 



152 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

pastors of the churches, and accomplished a greater amount of 
good than would probably have been effected had I continued 
in charge of them. 

My firm conviction that I should leave the Northern Neck 
did not prevent my removal from being a trying and sorrowful 
event. Most of the members of the churches I had baptized. 
I had received from them the kindest and most brotherly treat- 
ment. If there was a man, woman, or child in all my congre- 
gations, except one, who was not opposed to my leaving, I did 
not know it. That one was Deacon Thomas S. Sydnor, among 
the truest and most devoted of all my friends. Under all the 
circumstances, he gave it as his opinion, in opposition to the 
warmest feelings of friendship, that it was my duty to accept 
the call in Richmond. To add to the trial, the change involved 
the necessity of leaving the grave of my first wife and breaking 
in a measure the tender ties of my second to her family and the 
place of her nativity. 

In this article I have given to myself a prominence by no 
means congenial to my feelings. It is not easy, however, for 
one to dissociate his recollections from himself. I will endeavor 
in my future numbers to keep as free from egotism as is com- 
patible with a fair statement of my recollections. 



XXXI. 

NORTHERN NECK CAMP-MEETINGS. 

THE year 1831 is memorable for the number, power, and 
extent of the revivals among the Baptist churches in Vir- 
ginia. During the summer I aided Rev. James B. Taylor in 
a series of meetings held in the Second Baptist church, Rich- 
mond, the fruits of which were abundant and very valuable. I 
was desirous that brethren Taylor and Kerr should assist me 
in meetings in the Northern Neck. A camp-meeting having 
been recently conducted in Halifax county, I think, with great 
success, they proposed if the brethren in the Neck would pre- 
pare for holding a camp-meeting to attend it. On my return 
I laid the proposal before the churches. They greatly desired 
a visit from the ministers — especially from Kerr, of whom they 
had heard much, and few of them had seen ; but against a 
camp-meeting they had earnest objections. It had long been 
an annual meeting among the Methodists, and conducted, as 
was supposed, with many extravagances. Between the desire 
for a visit from Kerr and Taylor, and the aversion to a camp- 
meeting, the brethren were much perplexed and divided. As 
the discussion of the subject added to the confusion, it was 
agreed that the question should be decided by lot. After 
earnest prayer for divine guidance, the lot was cast, and the 
decision was in favor of the meeting. All promptly acquiesced 
in it. 

The meeting was held near Lancaster Courthouse, at a place 
called Ball's Woods, where the Methodists had made perma- 
nent arrangements for their annual camp-meeting. At the ap- 
pointed time quite a fair proportion of the members of Morat- 
tico and Wicomico churches were on the ground prepared for 
the services. True to their appointment, brethren Kerr and 
Taylor, accompanied by Rev. Eli Ball and other ministers, 
made their appearance. The situation was so singular and so 



154 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

much at variance with the views and tastes which had long- 
prevailed among the brethren that they could scarcely look 
one another in the face without laughing. There had been 
much prayer for the success of the meeting. A few were 
hopeful, many were in doubt, and some predicted an utter 
failure. The first service was held, I think, on Friday after- 
noon. I do not remember who preached, but there was noth- 
ing remarkable in the sermon. At its close persons were in- 
vited to come forward for prayer. About twenty inquirers 
accepted the invitation, most of them heads of families, and 
several of them among the most respectable and influential 
members of the community. Instantly all doubt of the success 
of the meeting vanished, and from that moment the hearts, 
tongues, and hands of all the brethren and sisters were united 
to promote its interests. I have never seen a meeting open 
with such cheering prospects of success. It proceeded with 
increasing interest until Saturday night. 

At this time a rain commenced which, for its abundance and 
duration, probably exceeded any that I have ever known. It 
was a young flood. The roads were converted into streams, 
the streams were swelled into rivers, the mills were swept away, 
and the whole country was covered with water. The encamp- 
ment was not prepared for such a deluge. The cabins leaked 
like riddles, and the water ran in a great sluice through the 
camp. To keep dry was impossible. The beds, bed-clothing, 
and raiment of the people were all moistened or saturated by 
the rain. All religious services at the stand were suspended, 
and those held in the tents were greatly interrupted. It was a 
notable fact that among the persons encamped on the ground 
were some in delicate health who could not bear without in- 
jury, as they supposed, the slightest exposure to inclement 
weather. They could not leave the place, and were compelled 
to fare like the rest. They slept between wet sheets, and were 
constantly exposed to the pitiless storm. Their death was 
judged to be inevitable, but not one of them, so far as I could 
learn, suffered any damage from the exposure, and some of 
them were decidedly benefited by it. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 155 

One remarkable preservation deserves to be recorded. 
There was a wide-spreading oak near the preachers' stand, 
around which, when the weather would permit, a crowd was 
constantly assembled. At a time when it was not raining the 
tree was struck and barked by a flash of lightning. Not an 
individual was hurt. The flash occurred at the dinner hour, 
when all were drawn from the lounging place. At another 
time a dozen or twenty lives might have been destroyed. 

The rain continued to the close of the meeting, but its re- 
sults were most cheering. About forty-five persons professed 
conversion ; but the importance of the meeting was to be esti- 
mated by the quality rather than the number of the converts. 
Scarcely any of them were children or youth, more than 
twenty were heads of families, and half a dozen were promi- 
nent citizens. They resided in different portions of the Neck, 
and exerted a mighty and beneficent influence so long as I re- 
mained there. 

One case is entitled to special notice. John Grinstead, of 
Northumberland, was, in several respects, a remarkable man. 
He was more than six feet high, weighed upwards of three 
hundred and fifty pounds, and had the strength of an ox. He 
was a good-natured, genial, pleasant companion, full of all 
manner of pranks and mischief. In comfortable worldly cir- 
cumstances, he devoted himself to amusements, and was a 
ringleader in all kinds of sports and frolics. He was not intem- 
perate, but far from being a teetotaler. He was not specially 
wicked, but his influence was decidedly hostile to piety. No 
man in the countv had more or warmer friends than Grinstead. 
He had recently lost a pious daughter, who, on her dying bed, 
had pleaded with him to become religious, and had probably 
secured from him the pledge that he would attend to the in- 
terests of his soul. He appeared at the meeting at its com- 
mencement, though residing at a distance of more than twenty 
miles from it, was among the first to come forward for prayer, 
and was joyfully converted before the close of the meeting. 
The news of his conversion spread rapidly through the Neck, 
and an earthquake would scarcely have produced a greater 



156 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

sensation. I have never known an instance of conversion the 
moral effects of which were more obvious, wide-spread, and 
momentous than was that of Grinstead. Nobody doubted his 
sincerity. No feeble power, it was universally conceded, could 
have wrought so great a change in one so devoted to pleasure 
and dissipation as he was. As an army becomes demoralized 
and panic-stricken when a great general falls at the commence- 
ment of a battle, so the devotees of pleasure and the sons of 
frolic and fun were terrified and lost heart when Grinstead, 
their leader, deserted their cause and enlisted under the oppos- 
ing banner. In a short time I baptized him in Coan river, 
where there was much water for the purpose, and to the end 
of his life he continued an earnest, upright, and consistent 
Christian. 

This meeting, held under almost unparalleled disadvantages, 
slew all the prejudices against camp-meetings among the Bap- 
tists in the lower end of the Northern Neck. Those who had 
most stoutly opposed it became its warm friends. It was seen 
that, conducted under favorable circumstances, and with proper 
order and prudence, by ministers commanding the respect of 
the community and wielding an influence over it, it was emi- 
nently adapted to be useful. It was at once resolved to have 
a camp-meeting the next year, provide ample accommodation 
for families and guests, and guard against the discomforts of 
the present meeting. 

This camp-meeting gave a strong impulse to the Baptist 
cause in the Neck. The converts were about equally divided 
between Morattico and Wicomico churches. Their baptism at 
different places awakened a lively interest and inspired the 
brethren and sisters with fresh zeal in the Master's cause. It 
was the commencement of a new era among the Baptists of 
that region, and led to the adoption of more extended plans 
for the promotion of their cause. 

One event must not be overlooked. At this meeting Hen- 
rietta, daughter of the late Rev. Addison Hall, afterwards Mrs. 
Shuck, the first American female missionary to China, was 
converted. She had just returned from a school in Fredericks- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 157 

burg to pass her vacation at home. She was among the first 
converts at the meeting. Her convictions of sin were pungent, 
her feelings intense, and her deliverance joyful. She ascribed 
her first permanent religious impressions to a question pro- 
pounded to her by her pious teacher, Mrs. Little : ' ' Where 
will you be a hundred years hence?" It awakened in her 
bosom serious meditation, a sense of accountability to God, 
and a conviction of her guilt and danger, which, by the divine 
blessing, led her to repentance and prepared her for a happy 
reception of the gospel. She commenced on the camp-ground, 
among her young associates, the evangelical work which, with 
constantly increasing fervor and fidelity, she continued to the 
close of her eventful life. She was baptized at Waverly, the 
family residence in Lancaster, in the presence of a deeply im- 
pressed audience. In her last letter, written from China a few 
hours before her death, she referred with pleasure to this 
solemn act of her life: '"Twas you, my dear Brother Jeter, 
who led me into the liquid grave. Oh ! how well I remember 
that day, that precious day, and the dear friends (some, yea, 
many of them, now departed — 1844) who accompanied me to 
the water's edge." 



XXXII. 

NORTHERN NECK CAMP-MEETINGS. 

WE have already stated that the brethren resolved at the 
first camp-meeting to hold a second. The ground se- 
lected for it was nearly equidistant from the court-houses of 
Lancaster and Northumberland, and not far from the line di- 
viding them. It was in a primeval forest and on a ridge, at the 
foot of which there was a bold and perennial spring. Neither 
expense nor pains were spared in preparing the encampment. 
It was a square. On one side of it were the preachers' tent 
and the stand for preaching. In front of the stand were ar- 
ranged seats for the accommodation of a large congregation. 
Around the square were erected substantial, water-proof cabins, 
suited to the warm summer weather. Quite a large assembly 
could find comfortable lodgings on the ground. 

The meeting was anticipated with great hopefulness and no 
little anxiety. Kerr, Taylor, and many other ministers were 
present at it. Of its services and progress I remember but 
little. One scene, however, I distinctly recollect. The ser- 
vices had been going on some time, and the prospects were not 
very bright. The morning prayer-meeting was addressed by 
Kerr. He was in his best mood, and delivered an overwhelm- 
ing exhortation. He urged the brethren to retire to the sur- 
rounding forest and make private and importunate prayer for 
the conversion of their friends. At the close of the service 
the brethren, greatly affected and moved by the appeal, dis- 
persed in every direction, singly and in small companies, to 
present their prayers to God. For hundreds of yards around 
the encampment the forest resounded with the low, solemn 
voice of supplication. Persons coming to the meeting, retiring 
from it, or going into the forest for any purpose, could not 
avoid the sound of prayer. A solemn and earnest tone of piety 
was imparted to the meeting, and it proceeded with unabated 
interest and power to its close. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 159 

At the termination of the meeting all who had found peace 
in believing since its commencement were requested to come 
forward and occupy appropriated seats. About one hundred 
and forty promptly presented themselves, Of these ninety 
were males, most of them of mature age, many of them heads 
of families, and several of them persons of prominence and in- 
fluence in the community. Most of these, in a few weeks, were 
baptized and became members of the contiguous churches, 
adding much to their strength and efficiency, as well as to their 
numbers. Nor do these statements indicate the full results of 
the meeting. The converts who came forward on the invita- 
tion were not all the trophies of grace secured by the services. 
Some of them had left before the close ; others, cherishing 
hope, lacked confidence to present themselves as subjects of 
grace, and not a few had received impressions which ripened 
in after times into piety. The close of the meeting was a most 
inspiring scene, and indicated as large a measure of success as 
I have ever known to follow a week's religious services. 

While I continued in the Northern Neck a meeting was held 
every year on the camp-ground described above, with varying, 
but always with gratifying, success. The meeting of 1834 
deserves special attention. In that year the Congregational 
Union of England and Wales sent Drs. Andrew Reed and 
James Matheson to visit their brethren in this country. Dr. 
Reed, to extend his inquiries and make observations on the 
religious condition of the country, attended the Baptist camp- 
meeting of the Northern Neck. He was one of the most 
eloquent and popular of the dissenting London pastors. He was • 
in the prime of life, of medium height, rather corpulent — an un- 
mistakable Englishman, but fairer and of more delicate appear- 
ance than his countrymen usually are. His dress, manners, 
and conversation gave proof of his intelligence and refinement. 
His arrival awakened a lively interest in the congregation and 
in the surrounding country. He was invited to preach, and 
somewhat reluctantly consented to do so, for he was fatigued 
from travelling and had been much broken of his rest. 

A large congregation was assembled to hear him. The 



160 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

weather was propitious. Everything was favorable to a pleas- 
ant service. Earnest prayer had been offered for the divine 
blessing on it, deep solemnity pervaded the audience, and all 
were intent to hear a London preacher. At eleven o'clock 
A. M. the Doctor arose in the stand and took for his text Acts 
iii : 19 : " When the times of refreshing shall come from the 
presence of the Lord. ' ' Of the matter of the sermon I remem- 
ber but little, but of its manner and effect I have a vivid recol- 
lection. It was delivered without vociferation, but in a clear, 
well-sustained voice, growing more earnest and tender from 
the beginning to the end. It was not profound, not sublime, 
not overpowering ; but it was pertinent, plain, eloquent, evan- 
gelical, impressive. I have heard greater sermons, but rarely 
a more faultless and fascinating one. It was heard throughout 
the large assembly with almost breathless attention, with a 
deepening interest and few tears, but with a strong undercur- 
rent of feeling. At the close of the sermon a most remarkable 
scene occurred. I will allow the Doctor to describe it, as he 
drew the picture when its impression was fresh upon his mind, 
in his report to the body which had sent him to this country : 

"There were not less than fifteen hundred persons assem- 
bled. Mr. Taylor offered fervent and suitable prayer. It re- 
mained for me to preach. I can only say that I did so with 
earnestness and freedom. I soon felt that I had the attention 
and confidence of the congregation, and this gave me confi- 
dence. I took care in passing, as my subject allowed, to with- 
draw my attention from anything noisy and exclamatory, and 
there was throughout the discourse nothing of the kind ; but 
there was a growing attention and stillness over the people. 
The closing statements and appeals were evidently falling on 
the conscience and heart with advancing power. The people 
generally leaned forward to catch what was said. Many rose 
from their seats, and many, stirred with grief, sunk down, as 
if to hide themselves from observation ; but all was perfectly 
still. Silently the tear fell, and silently the sinner shuddered. 
I ceased. Nobody moved. I looked around to the ministers 
for some one to give out a hymn. No one looked at me ; no 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 161 

one moved. Every moment the silence, the stillness, became 
more solemn and overpowering. Now here and there might 
be heard suppressed sobbing arising on the silence. But it 
could be suppressed no longer ; the fountains of feeling were 
burst open and one universal wail sprung from the people and 
ministers, while the whole mass sunk down on their knees, as if 
imploring some one to pray. I stood resting on the desk, over- 
whelmed like the people. The presiding pastor arose and, 
throwing his arms around my neck, exclaimed : ■ Pray, brother, 
pray ! I fear many of my charge will be found at the left hand 
of the Judge ! Oh, pray, brother ; pray for us ! ' and then he 
cast himself on the floor with his brethren to join in the prayer. 
But I could not pray. I must have been more or less than 
man to have uttered prayer at that moment. Nor was it neces- 
sary. All in that hour were intercessors with- God with tears 
and cries, and groans unutterable. So soon as I could com- 
mand my state of feeling I tried to offer prayer. My broken 
voice rose gradually on the troubled cries of the people, and 
gradually they subsided so that they could hear and concur 

in the common supplications. It ceased and the people rose. 
>{c >£ ^ ^ ^ %. 

' ' Thus closed the most remarkable service that I have ever 
witnessed. It has been my privilege to see more of the solemn 
and powerful effect of divine truth on large bodies of people 
than many, but I never saw anything equal to this — so deep, 
so overpowering, so universal." — Christian Library, 640. 

The above is a very fair account of the scene, except that, I 
think, the request for prayer by the pastor preceded the general 
outburst of feeling in the congregation. It was a very remark- 
able scene. I have observed deeper and more abiding impres- 
sions made on large audiences by the preaching of the gospel, 
but I have never seen so sudden and general and overwhelming 
an effect produced on a great assembly as occurred at the close 
of the Doctor's sermon. Its results it was difficult to estimate. 
The emotions produced were generally as transient as they 
were intense. The meeting was less successful than were those 
of previous years, but still its fruits called for great gratitude to 



162 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

the Giver of all good. From fifty to seventy persons professed 
to find salvation through faith in Christ. 

It may be proper for me to present my own views — the result 
of no inconsiderable experience — on the expediency of holding 
camp-meetings. They may be adopted wisely or unwisely, 
according to circumstances. In a sparsely settled country, 
under good religious influence, where the grounds and its sur- 
roundings are controlled by the friends of good order, where 
comfortable arrangements are made for the entertainment of an 
assembly, where public sentiment is sufficiently strong for the 
suppression of disorder, and where the ministers have gifts and 
influence for properly conducting such a meeting, it may, by 
God's blessing, be eminently useful. Some of the best, if not 
the very best, meetings which I have attended were camp- 
meetings. There is, however, great danger — certainly in Vir- 
ginia — that they will be perverted to evil. There is a strong 
tendency to make them occasions of social pleasure, festivity, 
and even of frivolity, dissipation, and vice. Satan usually 
attends camp -meetings, and musters and trains his servants for 
mischief, and much care, discretion, and firmness of purpose 
are needed to restrain the tendencies to evil. 



XXXIII. 

A VOYAGE TO BALTIMORE. 

DURING my residence in the Northern Neck, and in the . 
year 1829, I made a trip to the Monumental City. Then 
no steamer plied between that place and the Neck. The only 
communication between them was by sailing craft. I arranged 
to make the voyage in a small schooner engaged in the Balti- 
more trade. I had long desired to be in a storm on the water 
strong enough to give me a conception of its grandeur without 
arousing my fears. I got aboard the craft in the evening, and, 
not having fully recovered from an attack of malarial fever, 
went into the cabin, took my berth, and slept soundly until the 
next morning. To my surprise I learned that in crossing the 
mouth of the Potomac we had been in a severe storm, and that 
the vessel had been terribly rocked, if not in danger of being 
capsized. The skipper, who had been long engaged in navi- 
gating the Chesapeake bay, stated that he had never before- 
encountered so rough a storm. Quite likely I enjoyed my 
sleep more than I should have enjoyed the howling of the wind, 
and the dashing of the waves. 

In two or three days' run we reached the city of Baltimore. 
To me it seemed a great city, containing about ninety thousands 
inhabitants. The few days I spent there were employed in 
traversing its streets, surveying its fine buildings, and examin- 
ing its curiosities. I had often expressed the wish that I could! 
meet myself, without knowing who I was, that I might form 
an impartial opinion of my appearance. Strangely enough, on 
this visit my desire was gratified. I went to Peak's museum. 
While I was employed in examining the curiosities in a large 
room, I observed a tall, gawky-looking man who was engaged 
with equal interest in inspecting objects in an adjoining room. 
I eyed him occasionally, but not very minutely. Having fin- 
ished my examination in the room where I was, I concluded 



164 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

that I would pass into the apartment where the stranger seemed 
to be intensely occupied. He had closed his inspection of the 
curiosities in his room and appeared to be making his way into 
mine. We met face to face, and it was some time before I 
could perceive that the stranger was my very self, reflected 
from a mirror that had been fitted in the wall and surrounded 
by a frame appearing like a door. 

I spent a Sunday in Baltimore. My first aim was to hear 
the Rev. John Finlay preach. He was then pastor of the 
First Baptist church, meeting in the round-house, on Sharp 
street, so long occupied by Dr. J. W. M. Williams. Mr. 
Finlay had the reputation of being a very eloquent preacher. 
Many considered him the equal of Summerfield, who had 
recently died, but who, while living, was a star in the Method- 
ist pulpit of Baltimore. I had asked Luther Rice what sort 
of preacher Mr. Finlay was. He replied that he was such a 
preacher as a Scotchman would make. I inquired what sort 
of a preacher a Scotchman would make, and he answered 
that he would make a Scotch preacher. As his answers were 
equivocal, he illustrated them by a Western story. A wit- 
ness was called to testify in a case of assault and battery. The 
accused had struck his opponent with a stone. The wit- 
ness was asked the size of the stone, and replied that it was 
sizeable stone. The attorney requested him to state how big 
it was, and he answered that it was of certain bigness. The 
court, interposing, required him to compare it with something 
whose size was known, and he said it was the size of a piece 
of chalk. The explanation was quite as equivocal as the origi- 
nal answers. For some reason he declined to give me his 
opinion of the preaching abilities of Elder Finlay. He was a 
Scotchman, and some of the finest preachers of the present 
century have been Scotchmen. I heard him in his own pulpit 
on Sunday morning. His text was Eph. iv : 22-24 : ' ' That 
ye put off concerning the former conversation the old man, 
which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts ; and be re- 
newed in the spirit of your mind," &c. The congregation 
was not large, and the circumstances were not exciting, but I 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 165 

can well judge, from the clearness, fluency, and correctness of 
his style, that under favorable conditions he preached with 
eloquence and power. This discourse, however, was graceful 
rather than profound, and pleasing rather than impressive. 

At night I went to hear Elder E. J. Ries, who preached in 
a church on Calvert street. I had often heard of him. When 
I met Rev. Daniel Davis, on my first visit to the Northern 
Neck, he spoke in glowing terms of Elder Ries. He was the 
greatest man of God that he had ever seen. His talents were 
not appreciated in Baltimore. Elder Davis thought that he 
must remove to Baltimore to aid Brother Ries in his unequal 
conflict with false religious doctrines. From other sources I 
have learned that he was a high Calvinist, if not an Antinomian, 
and a leader of the Anti-mission party. He was a small man, 
and, when I saw him, quite beyond the meridian of life. His 
congregation, on a pleasant evening, in a central part of Balti- 
more, numbered about twenty persons. His text was Matt. 
v : 20 : "For I say unto you, That except your righteousness 
shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, 
ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven." The 
sermon was sound in the faith. Though the text did not de- 
mand it, he discussed the high points of Calvinism with intense 
earnestness, before an audience that was thoroughly indoctri- 
nated, and had listened, no doubt, a hundred times to the same 
discussion. He was not discouraged, because he considered 
that as his congregation was diminished in size it was increased 
in purity and merit. Elder Davis, we learned, afterwards re- 
moved to Baltimore to assist Brother Ries in his labors, but it 
was not long before he discovered that his helper was unsound, 
and denounced him as an Arminian. Elder Davis returned 
to Virginia a wiser man, and quite changed in spirit. Elder 
Ries, by a most faithful ministry, as he deemed it, succeeded 
in annihilating the church — a result which, so far as I know, 
invariably follows the preaching of Antinomianism. 

I may here mention a matter out of its chronological order. 
The Baptists in Baltimore being few, and their cause feebly sus- 
tained, Deacon William Crane, the founder and architect of the 



166 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Second Baptist church of this city, a few years from this time 
resolved to remove to Baltimore for the purpose of establishing 
a new church there. After the dissolution of Mr. Ries' church, 
the deacon purchased the house on Calvert street in which it 
met. I was invited to unite with him in the enterprise. To 
decide the matter judiciously I made another trip to the Monu- 
mental City. I shared in the hospitality of Mrs. H., a vener- 
able sister who sympathized with Brother Crane in his scheme. 
I preached to a small congregation in the Calvert-street house. 
Sister H. inquired, after the sermon, whether I was frightened. 
On being assured that I was not, she said she supposed that I 
was — that something was the matter with me, as I did not 
preach so well as she had expected. What was the measure of 
her expectation, or how it had been created, I knew not. I 
admired her frankness, but was in nowise discouraged by her 
disappointment, for I had learned that no sermon could be so 
excellent but that some persons would find fault with it, or so 
poor that others would not praise it. It was for some time 
undecided whether I should remove to Baltimore or remain in 
Virginia. Finally it was agreed to leave the question to the 
decision of a committee of ministers of the Dover Association, 
at its session with the Upper King and Queen church, in the 
year 1834. The committee decided adversely to my removal. 
Had their decision been otherwise, no human sagacity could 
conjecture what my history would have been. 

I must mention the exhibition of a ventriloquist which I at- 
tended in Baltimore. Ventriloquism is a gift or art scarcely 
less wonderful than the phonograph of Edison. It is the power 
of not merely imitating sounds, but of making the voice seem 
to proceed from any point at the pleasure of the actor. The 
performer, whose name I do not remember, was surely a master 
of his art. Of all the exhibitions which I have attended it was 
the most amusing. There was nothing in it to offend the most 
fastidious taste or the most rigid piety. He carried on facetious 
conversations, in different voices, from different parts of the 
room, in a manner the most natural. A dialogue between a 
father and a petted son for the purpose of displaying the boy's 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 167 

surprising genius, which resulted in a manifestation of his in- 
curable stupidity, was exquisitely humorous, and a fine illus- 
tration of the delusion of fond parents as to the marvellous gifts 
of their children. The actor raised a window, and we seemed 
to hear the voice of a man at a distance on the street, approach- 
ing nearer and nearer. He appeared at length to be climbing 
a ladder to reach the open window. On approaching it a col- 
loquy took place between him and the actor, terminating in a 
fierce quarrel, the violent shutting of the window, and the ter- 
rible screams of the imaginary sufferer. 

I returned to my plain country home quite impressed with 
the greatness and grandeur of the Monumental City. It was 
certainly the most magnificent place that I had seen. 



XXXIV. 

VIRGINIA STATE CONVENTION OF 1829-' 30. 

I DID not see the Convention which framed our present State 
Constitution. It represented neither the intelligence, the 
property, the patriotism, nor the respectability of the Old 
Dominion. It was composed of Negroes, who scarcely knew 
for what they were appointed ; adventurers, who illustrated the 
Scripture, "Wheresoever the carcass is, there will the eagles 
(vultures we call them) be gathered together"; and a few 
respectable Virginians, in a hopeless minority. I resided in 
the city during its session, but carefully avoided the sight of a 
body inseparably associated with the misfortune and degrada- 
tion of my State. 

The Convention of 1829- 30, assembled in this city for the 
amendment of the State Constitution, was in many respects a 
notable body. It was the most intelligent, patriotic, and ven- 
erable assembly that has ever met within the limits of the State, 
and rarely has it been excelled in these qualities in any age or 
in any country. It was my privilege to see this body and to 
attend several days on its sessions. My recollections of its 
men and measures may interest some persons. 

It first met in the hall of the House of Delegates, and after- 
wards in the First Baptist church, on the ground now occupied 
by the First African church. I saw it in the legislative hall. 
It contained many men of national fame, some of them having 
participated in the revolutionary struggle and occupied the 
highest posts of honor. James Madison was there. He was 
about eighty years old, small of stature, with a pleasing counte- 
nance, and of dignified manners, but not of commanding 
presence. James Monroe, a few years his senior, was a larger 
man, a more notable person, but showing more clearly the 
infirmities of age. Judge Marshall, a few years younger than 
Madison, was tall, lean, bony, and loosely jointed, but quite 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 169 

vigorous, and exhibiting nothing of the decadence of age. 
Among the distinguished men who followed close after the 
Revolution I may mention Littleton Waller Tazewell, William 
B. Giles, and John Randolph. Tazewell Was-a fine, venerable- 
looking man, of whom it was stated that Judge Marshall said : 
"His mind is as clear as light and as pure as ether." Giles 
was in feeble health, and bore the marks of disease rather than 
of statesmanship. Randolph was as singular in appearance as 
any man who could be found in a day's search. He was tall 
and slender ; his body was short and his legs were unusually 
long ; his head was small and seemed to be set on his shoul- 
ders, and his dress was uncouth. His presence, while it gave 
no promise of superior intelligence, would have attracted atten- 
tion in any assembly. Prominent among the leaders of the 
Convention — men in the full vigor of life, and fired with the 
desire of distinction — were Leigh, Upshur, Broadnax, and the 
Barbours. I must not omit the name of Alexander Campbell, 
then rising into eminence. He was a Scotchman, well educa- 
ted, exceedingly fluent, but on a theatre for which his training 
had not fitted him, on which his clerical profession was a serious 
obstacle to his success. 

I have not attempted to give a full account of the distin- 
guished members of the Convention. It was composed mainly 
of the most cultivated, respectable, and popular citizens from 
every district of the State. Demagogism had little share in 
their selection. The ablest judges, the most astute lawyers, 
the finest scholars, and the most successful men of business, 
without regard to their location, and with little respect to their 
wishes, were chosen to represent the good people of the Com- 
monwealth and improve their antiquated Constitution. 

On the Convention I attended several days, listening to the 
debates and making observations on its members. Judge 
Philip P. Barbour presided over the body with great efficiency 
and dignity. The most notable man in the body, or at least the 
member who made the deepest impression on my mind, and 
of whom I retain the most vivid recollection, was John Ran- 
dolph of Roanoke. He was unquestionably the most perfect 



170 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

orator to whom, in the course of half a century, it has been 
my privilege to listen. I have heard many of the most emi- 
nent speakers of the present age in this country, and some in 
^Europe, in legislative halls and in pulpits, and I have not seen 
one who seemed so thoroughly to understand the art of 
public speaking as he did. I have probably heard speakers 
more profound in thought, more convincing in argument, and 
more moving in appeal, but none so faultless in speaking as 
was the orator of Roanoke. His voice was sharp and quite 
peculiar, but not unpleasing to the ear. His gestures were few, 
but all graceful and expressive. In the art of pausing he was 
unrivalled. He would throw together the clauses of a sentence 
exciting expectation, and before he would bring out its mean- 
ing, with his hand gracefully elevated, he would pause as if 
some thought too large for utterance were struggling to find 
expression. There was no doubt but that the sentence would 
be gracefully and forcibly finished. The delay intensified the 
desire to hear the conclusion. Every head was pressed for- 
ward and every eye was strained to mark the effect of the com- 
ing bolt. Nor was there any disappointment when it came. 
It went to the mark with unerring precision and with resistless 
force. His style was natural, clear, and strong, adapted simply 
to convey and press his thoughts. 

Of his remarks in general I have no distinct remembrance, 
but I recollect one of his illustrations. He was discussing some 
matter before the Convention which he considered theoretical 
rather than practical. Jefferson, the orator said, constructed 
a plow on philosophical principles, whose mould-board pre- 
sented the least possible resistance. He had tried it. All he 
could say of it was, that it was the hardest plow to draw that 
ever he had seen. The measure he was opposing seemed 
sound in theory, but it would, like Jefferson's plow, be difficult 
in practice. 

In one case Mr. Randolph found a foeman worthy of his 
steel. Mr. Henderson — I think that was his name, and that he 
was from Loudoun county — had made some remarks for which 
the member from Charlotte deemed it proper to rebuke him. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 171 

<l Et tic, Brute? This is too much," said the orator, "for one 
member of this House to say to another. ' ' He proceeded to 
rebuke the member from Loudoun in sharp terms for his 
unparliamentary language. As soon as Mr. Henderson could 
get the floor he said, in substance : ' ' Mr. Speaker, I hope my 
inexperience and want of parliamentary training may excuse 
me for any seeming lack of courtesy to the members of this 
body. I am conscious of my need of a guide in parliamentary 
order and courtesy, but my observation has taught me that the 
member from Charlotte is not a proper model for my imitation. ' ' 
Mr. Henderson resumed his seat, and Mr. Randolph, so far as 
I learned, never noticed the retort. 

I have heard the story, but cannot vouch for its correctness, 
that Mr. Randolph, in one of his discursive speeches, said that 
the question whether fleas had souls had been discussed. 
Turning to Mr. Campbell, he said : ' ' We will leave that point 
to be settled by our divine. ' ' 

One thing was quite clear : the old men did not wield the 
influence in the Convention which they had formerly exercised 
in deliberative bodies. Monroe was elected president of the 
Convention, but retired from the office on account of his unfit- 
ness to perform its duties. All his efforts to speak presented 
his abilities in unfavorable contrast with those of the leaders of 
the body. Judge Coalter spoke to show that if he had ever 
been wise his wisdom had departed. Giles shook himself and 
went forth to battle as when his eloquence spell-bound the Con- 
gress of the United States, but he was a Samson shorn of his 
locks. Madison displayed his good judgment by declining to 
enter into debate, and giving his opinions ex cathedra, plainly 
and concisely, only on important questions. Marshall was the 
only man who had passed the age of three-score years and ten 
that showed himself able to grapple in argument with the men 
of renown in the full vigor of life. All who encountered the 
Chief Justice in debate felt that they had their hands full. 
Randolph, Leigh, Upshur, and Broadnax — men in the prime 
of life — were unquestionably the lions of the Convention. Nor 
should the name of Philip Doddridge, of Northwestern Vir- 



172 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

ginia, be overlooked. He struck me as being one of the most 
sensible, practical, active members of the body. 

Whether the comparative failure of the octogenarians in the 
Convention was due to the overestimate of their abilities in a 
past age, or the declining of their mental powers with the 
increase of years, is a question that history and physiology are 
equally interested to settle. We incline to the latter opinion. 
The old men had retired from the active labors of life or were 
suffering from infirmities. Their minds, freed from the pressure 
of toil, had lost the elasticity, vigor, and power of endurance 
which they enjoyed in their palmy days. Marshall was an 
exception to these remarks. He had continued on the bench 
of the Supreme Court of the United States. His mind was 
kept in constant vigorous exercise, and consequently retained 
all its powers unimpaired. This opinion accords with the obser- 
vations of my life. I have seen many persons in their dotage 
— some reduced to the imbecility of childhood — but I have no 
recollection of having seen man or woman reduced to this con- 
dition who was in circumstances that afforded scope and fur- 
nished motive for constant, earnest intellectual effort. It is 
unquestionably true that many men at the age of four-score 
years have their mental powers in full play — their imagination 
bright, their judgment clear, their memory only slightly im- 
paired, and their power to think, to write, and to command in 
no degree diminished. 



XXXV. 

MEMORABLE EVENTS. 

DURING my residence in the Northern Neck several im- 
portant and stirring events occurred. The first, in the 
order of time, was the Southampton Insurrection. About the 
last of August, 1831, the people of the Neck were greatly 
excited by the most appalling rumors. It was stated that an 
enemy, of unknown strength, coming from nobody knew 
where, had appeared in the neighborhood of the Dismal 
Swamp, with some undiscovered purpose, and were slaughter- 
ing the people and desolating the country. The story, though 
involved in mystery and believed to be exaggerated, created the 
most intense anxiety and the most feverish apprehensions. 
Where the invasion would end no one could tell. Men brushed 
up their old muskets and fowling-pieces, supplied themselves 
with ball and powder, and patrolled the country, while women 
passed anxious days and sleepless nights. I was myself suffer- 
ing with a malarial fever, and had visions of mischief and 
bloodshed which might well have appalled a stouter heart than 
mine. The slow mails brought confused and contradictory 
accounts of the affair, and the agony of suspense was continued 
for days or even weeks. 

At length, however, the smoky rumor was blown away, and 
the following facts were brought to light : Nat Turner, a slave 
in the county of Southampton, Virginia, was a born fanatic. 
He grew up with the expectation of his parents and his sable 
friends that he would accomplish some great but undefined 
purpose. He was a negro of unusual shrewdness, and gained 
a controlling influence over his acquaintances. He was not a 
member of any church nor a professor of religion, but he had, 
or supposed he had, visions and revelations from Heaven. He 
was of mature age, and the time approached when his achieve- 
ments were to commence. An eclipse of the sun, and its green 



174 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

appearance some months after (which I well remember), he 
construed as signs that he must enter on his mission. Five or 
six negro men were made acquainted with his plans, or rather 
with his vague fancies, for he seems to have had no definite aim 
or plan. They became subservient to his wishes, and after a 
feast in the forest, in which strong drink was freely used, they 
entered on their murderous work. The master of Turner, 
who, he admitted, had always treated him kindly, was the first 
victim of their phrensy. They broke into his house, and, hav- 
ing murdered him with an axe, soon slew the remainder of the 
family. Their bloody work having been commenced, they 
became reckless, and went from house to house of the unsus- 
pecting inhabitants and slew, with relentless fury, men, women, 
and children. In their course they gathered guns, pistols, and 
other weapons of destruction, mounted horses where they 
could find them, and enlisted volunteers until the mutineers 
numbered seventy. Before the morning light fifty-five persons, 
chiefly helpless women and children, had fallen victims to their 
senseless rage. 

The news of the massacre spread like lightning through all 
the surrounding region. Men were aroused and armed them- 
selves for the defense of their lives and those of their families 
and neighbors. At the very first resistance the murderous 
gang broke and fled like a frightened flock of sheep. They 
rode up rapidly to the house of an old gentleman who, having 
been warned of their approach, had armed his family and 
slaves for their reception. When they had approached within 
twenty steps of the house, apprehending no resistance to their 
fiendish purpose, five guns were fired at them ; one mutineer 
was killed, several were wounded, and the rest turned and fled 
in consternation. This was the end of the insurrection. It is 
amazing that men engaged in so desperate and reckless an en- 
terprise, and who had shed blood with such heartless cruelty, 
should have been such wretched cowards. Deeds of blood are 
sometimes half redeemed from infamy by the heroism or gen- 
erosity of those who perpetrate them, but in the Southampton 
insurrection there was not among the insurgents a single trait 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 175 

of bravery or the slightest gleam of humanity. Their career, 
from the beginning to the end, was marked by brutality, cow- 
ardice, and stupidity. The probability is that strong drink had 
more influence over them than the love of race or of freedom. 

The reader may well imagine, or rather is utterly unable to 
imagine, the excitement and dismay spread throughout the 
country by this inexplicable outbreak. Troops were hastened 
to the scene of conflict from Norfolk, Petersburg, Richmond, 
and many other places. Their aid, however, was not needed. 
The insurrection was quelled at the first resistance. The mur- 
derers were shot, or arrested, imprisoned, tried, and hanged. 
More than a dozen of them suffered the extreme penalty of the 
law. Nat Turner, the prime author of the mischief, concealed 
himself for some weeks in a cave, but was finally arrested, 
calmly tried, and duly punished. 

The effects of the insurrection were wide-spread and abiding. 
The negroes who had been trusted by their masters were sus- 
pected, watched, kept under strict restraints, and their privi- 
leges greatly abridged. The whole country was in a state of 
feverish apprehension, and the most painful as well as the most 
amusing alarms were constantly occurring. The blowing of a 
horn or the sight of a few unknown persons in company was 
quite sufficient to cause a neighborhood panic and call its 
undisciplined militia to arms. One pretty certain case of tem- 
porary insanity and consequent manslaughter came within my 
knowledge. When the Legislature met it adopted most strin- 
gent laws in regard to the negroes. They were forbidden to 
assemble except with white persons, their preachers were pro- 
hibited from preaching, and the most rigid police was estab- 
lished throughout the country. I then thought, and I still think, 
that the laws were more severe than was demanded by the 
exigency of the times, but they certainly found a plausible 
defense in the excited state of the public mind and in the de- 
fenseless condition of the women and children in the rural dis- 
tricts. As the excitement died away the bloody scenes of 
Southampton were partially forgotten, and the slaves proved 
themselves to be quiet and tractable, many of the laws were 



176 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

modified, and the condition of the slaves became very much as 
it had been before the tragic insurrection occurred. 

In the year 1832, that following the insurrection, the Asiatic 
cholera first made its appearance in this country. It had for 
some time been steadily advancing from Asia through Central 
Europe westward. We read of its ravages with much the same 
feelings that people have recently heard of the fearful desolation 
of the famine in China. It was a terrible scourge, but it did not 
concern us. We are more affected by the sight of the suffer- 
ings of a dog than we are by the death of a million of people 
on the opposite side of the globe. When, however, the plague 
reached England, the apprehension was awakened that it might 
visit this country. The fear, however, was slight. The Atlan- 
tic ocean, it was supposed, presented an insuperable barrier to 
its progress. It was a delusive confidence. It first made its 
appearance at Quebec, in Canada. Almost simultaneously it 
broke out in Norfolk, Va. The news of its arrival spread, not, 
indeed, with electric speed, for then there were no telegraphs, 
but with all the rapidity that post-coaches and steamers, 
impelled and guided by alarm, could secure. The news 
created a universal panic. The bravest hearts quailed at the 
prospect of such a scourge. The alarm was intensified by the 
graphic reports of the fearful ravages of the disease in Asia, its 
native region, and its track of desolation through Central 
Europe. Imagination was busy in painting the probable mis- 
chief of the plague in the Western World. Many a cheek 
which had not been blanched at the exaggerated rumors of the 
Southampton insurrection turned pale at the authentic intelli- 
gence that the Eastern scourge had reached our continent and 
commenced its devastations in our chief seaport. Even the 
doctors, usually so courageous in facing deadly epidemics, 
were terrified at the prospect of encountering a disease with 
whose symptoms they were unacquainted, and whose power 
had baffled the skill and resources of the medical profession in 
the Old World. 

It is a law of our nature that familiarity with danger dimin- 
ishes the alarm which it inspires. It is well that it is so. Other- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 177 

wi^e, men would be unnerved and unfitted for the perilous and 
unavoidable conflicts of life. By degrees the fear of cholera 
subsided. It was found by experience that prudent sanitary 
measures might generally guard against the disease, and that 
prompt and skillful medical treatment in a great majority of 
cases saved the patients. Still it was a sore scourge, and many 
were its victims. 

No place in Virginia suffered from the epidemic more 
severely than did Richmond. When at its acme more than 
fifty persons were buried in a single day from a population of 
about 20,000 — equal to 200 a day from its present inhabitants — 
a terrible levy on human life, surely. At the time of its preva- 
lence in the city I had occasion to visit my parents in Bedford 
county. My route lay through the inflicted city, and I 
dreaded much to pass through it. Pass through it I did, and 
learned to my delight that not one of my acquaintances, not 
then very numerous, had fallen a victim to the plague. It was 
a remarkable fact that the disease on that visit preyed almost 
entirely on the intemperate, the imprudent, and the dwellers in 
unhealthy localities and in crowded and ill-ventilated houses. 
I left the city with my fear of the malady quite abated, and re- 
turned to it in a few weeks before the disappearance of the 
disease, and remained several days without any dread of it. 

Since its first appearance in this country I have had no little 
opportunity of becoming acquainted with the epidemic of 
Asiatic cholera. It is a fearful scourge, but I am convinced 
from some observation, and from quite extensive inquiries, 
that against no violent epidemic can judicious hygienic rules 
afford so probable a defense, and none taken in its incipience 
is so likely to yield to well-directed medical treatment. If,, 
however, the patient is permitted to pass through the premon- 
itory stage of the disease till collapse sets in, it will be a mere 
chance if the most profound medical science, with all the drugs 
in the shops, can save him from the tomb. 



XXXVI. 

THE BAPTIST TRIENNIAL CONVENTION 

I FIRST attended a session of this body in the city of New 
York in 1832. At that time a journey from the Northern 
Neck to the American emporium was not what it now is. Ac- 
companied by my friend, Colonel Hall, I travelled in a steamer 
to Baltimore, and thence to Frenchtown, at the head of the 
Chesapeake bay. Here I first saw a railroad, on which the pas- 
sengers were drawn by horses across the peninsula, at the rate 
of six or eight miles an hour, to Newcastle, on the Delaware 
river. From this point my companion and myself ascended 
the river in a steamer, touching at Philadelphia and landing at 
Trenton, New Jersey. From this place we went with a long 
line of coaches by Princeton to New Brunswick, on the Raritan 
river. Down this narrow stream we were carried in a steamer 
to its mouth, and across the bay to New York. I have 
described our journey that the reader may see how great a 
change has taken place in the manner of travelling in a period 
of forty-seven years. 

New York impressed me as a great city. At that time there 
was a strong commercial rivalry between it and the city of 
Philadelphia. Each was striving for the pre-eminence. A 
glance at the shipping in New York harbor and its crowded, 
busy streets furnished decisive proof that the contest could not 
last long, and was of no doubtful issue. It then contained a 
population of about 200,000, and was rapidly growing and ex- 
tending its trade, tyly companion and myself shared in the 
hospitality of Bro. Luke Davies and his family. He was a 
minister, without a charge ; was engaged in the manufacture of 
stocks, then just coming into use, I was quite surprised to see 
Rev. S. H. Cone with one on his neck, as he was the first 
minister whom I had seen following that fashion. By our host 
and his family we were courteously received and treated with 
princely fare. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 179 

The Convention assembled in Oliver-street church, then 
under the pastorate of Elder S. H. Cone. Since the last 
meeting of the body the Rev. R. B. Semple, who had presided 
with dignity over its deliberations, had passed to his reward, 
and the popular pastor of Oliver-street church was elected to 
fill the chair. Cone was in the prime of life, rather below the 
ordinary size of men, with a peculiarly open and cheerful coun- 
tenance, and a head prematurely white. He presided over the 
Convention with great promptness, efficiency, and firmness. 
He assumed more authority than would have been tolerated in 
a strictly parliamentary body, but he exercised it for the dis- 
patch of business. 

Here I first met many prominent Baptist ministers, whom I 
subsequently knew more or less intimately. Some of them I 
will mention. Dr. Sharp was a Boston pastor, an Englishman 
by birth and education ; a slow, hesitating speaker, but calm 
and weighty in council. Dr. Bolles, secretary of the Board, 
led by his office to take an active part in the business of the 
Convention ; without brilliant talents ; was a judicious and dili- 
gent officer. Dr. Kendrick, president of Hamilton College, 
New York, was a tall, rawboned, rough-looking man, with 
strong sense and decided influence in the Convention. Way- 
land, Knowles, and Stow were the rising men of the body. 
Wayland had established his reputation as a preacher by his 
published sermon on the Moral Dignity of the Missionary En- 
terprise ; but his manner of speaking did not correspond with 
the beauty and strength of his written style. Knowles had 
gained renown by his admirable Life of Mrs. Judson, but added 
nothing to it by anything which he said in the Convention ; 
and, to the universal sorrow of the denomination, soon fell a 
victim to small-pox, the scourge of the human race. Stow had 
distinguished himself as the editor of the Columbian Star, and 
preached, if I mistake not, the introductory sermon before the 
Convention without derogating from his reputation or diminish- 
ing the promise of his usefulness. I must not omit the names 
of fathers Bennet and Peck. They were ministers of the old 
dispensation, residing in the western part of the State of New 



180 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

York, venerable for their age, and distinguished for their piety, 
good sense, and usefulness. They were among the most devout, 
zealous, heart-stirring preachers that I have ever known. If 
wise counsels were needed, or oil was to be poured on the 
troubled waters, or the blessing of God was to be invoked, 
fathers Bennet and Peck were always in demand, and they were 
not called on in vain. Time would fail me to speak of McClay, 
Dodge (of New Jersey), Galusha, Choules, and many others — 
all trusted for their wisdom, loved for their piety, and honored 
for their gifts. 

The representation from the South was small. Luther Rice, 
then laboring there, Brantly (the elder) and Dagg, both 
Southern men and pastors in Philadelphia ; Saunders and Judge 
Stocks, from Georgia (if my memory is not at fault), with others, 
doubtless, whom I have forgotten, were all present, and some 
of them prominent in the Convention. 

The routine of the body was dispatched without special in- 
terest. One matter almost absorbed its attention. The Board 
supported a mission among the Indians of Georgia. The 
Legislature of the State had passed laws extending its jurisdic- 
tion over the Indians within its territory, and requiring that 
persons residing among them, missionaries as well as others, 
should, on pain of incarceration in the penitentiary, acknowl- 
edge its authority. The Baptist missionaries, without com- 
plaint or reluctance, submitted to the authority of the State, 
and, without its interference, successfully prosecuted their 
work. The Presbyterian missionary in the Indian territory 
deemed it his duty to pursue a different course. Denying the 
right of the State of Georgia to exercise jurisdiction over the 
Indians in their territory, he refused to yield to its authority, 
and was consequently arrested, tried, condemned, and actually 
sent to labor in the State penitentiary. The matter created 
great excitement in the country, and became the theme of 
political and sectional controversy. 

The committee of the Convention on Indian Missions brought 
in a report approving the course pursued by the Baptist mis- 
sionaries in Georgia. The report was calm in its spirit and 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 181 

prudent in its statements, and would have been promptly 
adopted had it not been supposed that by implication it ap- 
proved the course of Georgia, and censured the conduct of the 
Presbyterian minister. It led to a protracted and heated dis- 
cussion, in which Galusha and Choules took prominent part 
in opposition to the report, and Rice in support of it. After a 
wearisome and, no doubt, quite able debate, the subject was 
referred to a select committee, of which J. L. Dagg was chair- 
man, or for which, at least, he prepared and read the report. 

The next day, when the heat of the controversy had in a 
good measure subsided, Dagg read the report of the select 
committee, modified to avoid the objections which had been 
urged against it. He followed its reading with a speech which, 
in my judgment, was the speech of the Convention. It was 
calm, clear, forcible, and in a lovely spirit. It was simply a 
question whether the Convention should approve or censure 
the conduct of their missionaries in Georgia. They had vio- 
lated no law of God or man. They had acted prudently, their 
labors had been owned of God, and they were entitled to the 
commendation of their brethren. If the Presbyterian mis- 
sionary deemed it proper to pursue a different course, that was 
no concern of the Convention. Let the Presbyterians attend 
to it. I do not give an outline, but merely the topics of the 
speech. It made a deep impression, elicited no reply, and the 
report was adopted, I think, unanimously. 

I heard but little preaching during the meeting of the Con- 
vention. Dr. Wayland preached at night in the Oliver-street 
church. The congregation was not crowded. Indeed, I was 
surprised at the little interest awakened in the proceedings of 
the Convention in the great, bustling city of New York, so 
strikingly in contrast with what I had seen on similar occasions 
in the cities of Virginia. The Doctor preached from Rom. vii: 
13 : " That sin by the commandment might become exceeding 
sinful." His theme was the sinfulness of sin, and he illus- 
trated his doctrine by showing the obligation which sin vio- 
lates, as seen in the power it defies, the goodness it abuses, 
the holiness it offends, and the long-suffering it rejects, and in 



182 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

the effects it produces, as seen in the happiness it sacrifices, 
the punishment it incurs, and the reward it offers. From the 
doctrine he inferred the justice of God in punishing sin, his 
grace in providing a Savior for sinners, and concluded by 
pointing out the bearing of the subject on the mission cause. 
The sermon was plain, sensible, and solemn, but lacked the 
graces of oratory and the impressive fervor which I had ex- 
pected. Masculine common sense, as I afterwards more fully 
learned, was the characteristic of Dr. Wayland's mind and 
sermons. 

Sunday morning I preached to a small Welsh congregation 
in Brooklyn. The town contained at that time, if I remember 
rightly, twelve or fourteen thousand inhabitants, and gave to 
my unpracticed eyes no indication of its rapid growth and its 
coming prosperity. I do not recollect the subject on which I 
preached, or anything pertaining to the service. At their close 
I was assured by a Welsh brother that my manner of preach- 
ing was very much like that of the Welsh ministers. I re- 
ceived the remark as a great compliment, as about that time 
the celebrated extract from a sermon of Christmas Evans, con- 
cerning the appearance of Christ at Calvary, after a lapse of 
four thousand years, to fulfill his covenant obligations for the 
redemption of sinners, was widely circulated and greatly ad- 
mired. Howbeit, the good brother did not intimate that my 
sermon bore any resemblance to the eloquent and seraphic 
specimen of Evans' preaching, but only to the ordinary style 
of the Welsh sermons. 



XXXVII. 

THE BAPTIST TRIENNIAL CONVENTION— 
Continued. 

THIS body met in its eighth session in this city in the year 
1835. It was probably the largest and most interesting 
of all its meetings. The prominent ministers of the day from 
the North and South were present. The South, especially, 
was far more fully represented in the Convention than it had 
been before. The pleasure of the occasion was greatly in- 
creased by the presence of Rev. Dr. Francis A. Cox and Rev. 
James Hoby, delegates to the Convention from the Baptist 
Union, England ; Rev. Amos Sutton, missionary of the Gen- 
eral English Baptist Missionary Society to Orissa, India; Rev. 
Evan. Jones, missionary among the Indians, and Bro. O-ga-na- 
ye, an Indian convert. The introductory sermon before the 
Convention was delivered by Rev. S. H. Cone, of New York, 
from Acts ix : 6 : ' ' What wilt thou have me to do ? " He had 
a great reputation as a preacher. Probably my expectation of 
his preaching was too highly excited for me to do him justice. 
The sermon was not equal to his renown. It was fluently and 
gracefully preached, but was not particularly pertinent to the 
occasion, and was more distinguished by vivacity than strength, 
and by imagination than logic. It was delivered quite extem- 
pore, and was probably not a fair specimen of his preaching. 
I do not remember that I heard him preach on any other occa- 
sion, but I frequently heard him speak in the Convention and 
in other deliberative bodies, and considered him a ready, clear, 
and vigorous debater, and very likely to carry his points. He 
was re-elected president of the Convention, and performed his 
official duties with promptness, tact, and success. The business 
of the body was conducted with unusual spirit and harmony. 
The addresses of Drs. Cox and Hoby, Rev. Mr. Sutton, and 
brethren Jones and O-ga-na-ye' were excellent, and awakened 



184 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

a profound interest. The speeches of Mr. Sutton, especially, 
were among the most touching and persuasive of any that I 
have heard from returned missionaries, and it has been my 
privilege to listen to many. 

At this meeting I saw, for the only time, Rev. Jesse Mercer, 
D. D., of Georgia. I had heard of him from my boyhood, 
for he enjoyed for many years the highest and most widely 
extended reputation of any Baptist minister of the South. He 
was old, but by no means superannuated. He was tall, of 
large proportions, and of venerable and commanding presence. 
He had a bald and singularly shaped head. It ran up to a 
point, unusually distant from his eyes. His bump of reverence, 
according to the phrenological theory, was largely developed. 
He commanded great respect, but did not take an active part 
in the business of the Convention. I heard him preach at 
night in the old Second Baptist church. His text was Acts iv : 
12 : "Neither is there salvation in any other : for there is none 
other name under heaven given among men whereby we must 
be saved." His sermon was plain, evangelical, and solemn, 
but not remarkable either for originality of thought, beauty of 
style, or grace of delivery. Had I judged of his abilities from 
this discourse I should have ranked him below many of our 
Virginia preachers who were far inferior to him in reputation. 
He must, however, have been a very able preacher. I heard 
Luther Rice say that he considered him the best preacher 
whom he had ever heard, as he had never heard him preach 
on any subject that did not seem to be, under his clear and 
impressive representation, the most important that could be 
discussed. Few men were better qualified to judge of preach- 
ing than Rice, and not one within the range of my acquaint- 
ance had heard so many preachers of distinction as he. I 
must think, however, that Dr. Mercer was notable rather for 
his good judgment, wisdom, and sound doctrinal views than 
for his attractive pulpit gifts. 

To Dr. Cox was assigned the post of honor. He preached 
to a crowded audience in the old First Baptist church on 
Lord' s-day morning. He was about sixty years old, with a 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 185 

full suit of hair almost as white as snow. He was of the ordi- 
nary height of men, inclining to corpulency, with a soft and 
ruddy complexion. His dress was uncommon, but exceed- 
ingly neat. He wore a round-breasted coat, a ruffled shirt, 
short pants, with long hose and knee buckles. He was an un- 
usually fine-looking rrlan, and peculiarly graceful in his man- 
ners. Some brother called him to account for wearing a ruffled 
shirt. He replied that he dressed in the fashion of the old and 
plain men of England, but that the American ministers were 
clothed as were the London dandies. His text was Psa. lxxii : 
19 : "And let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen, 
and Amen." It was a missionary sermon, and heard with great 
interest. It was delivered in the most polished style and in the 
most graceful manner, but was not remarkable for its strength 
or pathos. It was a beautiful rather than an able sermon. One 
thing in the discourse attracted particular attention. He drop- 
ped the sound of g in all words ending with it. He said 
learnin' , mornin' , and the like. When asked his reason for 
the pronunciation, he stated that he followed the usage of the 
London bar, which was the standard of English pronunciation. 
He was doubtless right, as he had received the honorary degree 
of LL. D. as well as of D. D. The usage, however, must have 
been partial or transient, as I did not observe it on my visit to 
London, though I was present in the Court of the Queen's 
Bench and listened to speeches on the trial of the pretended 
Sir Roger Ticheborne. 

I heard Rev. James Hoby preach in the old Third Baptist 
church, at the corner of Marshall and Second streets. He dif- 
fered widely in appearance from Dr. Cox. He was low, chuffy, 
with a red face and a rough exterior — a genuine John Bull. 
His text was Matt, xiii : 31, 32 : "The kingdom of heaven is 
like unto a grain of mustard seed," &c. By "the kingdom 
of heaven," he understood the reign of the Messiah, or of 
divine grace, and he noticed the insignificance of its begin- 
ning, the steadiness of its progress, and its ultimate triumph. 
The sermon was an able exposition of the text, quite at vari- 
ance with the views of the modern Millenarians ; less erudite 



186 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

and finished, but certainly not less instructive and vigorous, 
than that of Dr. Cox. The sermon of the latter was more 
popular, but that of the former made the more abiding im- 
pression. 

The English deputation were entertained by Bro. Richard 
C. Wortham, of the First Baptist church, at his hospitable 
mansion on Grace street between Second and Third streets. 
About that time slavery was abolished in the British West 
India Islands by an act of Parliament. The English Baptists 
were champions in the cause of emancipation, and Dr. Cox 
and Rev. Mr. Hoby were sent over to this country, in part, to 
bear testimony against American slavery. As the Convention 
was held in a slave-holding State, and the people were sensitive 
on the subject of slavery, the deputation deemed it proper to- 
proceed with caution. They requested a number of represen- 
tative ministers and others to meet them in a conference on the 
subject at the house of their host. I was a member of the con- 
ference, but remember imperfectly of whom it was composed. 
Messrs. Cox and Hoby laid before the meeting the mission 
with which they were charged by their English brethren in re- 
gard to American slavery, and requested the views of the con- 
ference on the subject. Most of the brethren spoke apologeti- 
cally of slavery. It was an evil, had been entailed on us, was 
so mingled with our institutions as to be ineradicable, and all 
attempts to abolish it would do more harm than good. I re- 
member that I compared it — perhaps not very courteously, in 
the presence of English loyalists — to hereditary monarchy, 
which, though in violation of the rights of the people — involv- 
ing a kind of national slavery — would better be endured than 
rashly overthrown. Dr. William B. Johnson, of South Caro- 
lina, however, came out squarely in support of slavery. He 
stated that the present generation of Southerners found slavery 
in existence, and were not responsible for its origination, and 
that they learned from the Scriptures that slavery existed 
among the Israelites with the divine approbation, and that 
Christ and the apostles, living and laboring under a govern- 
ment which protected slavery, never uttered or penned a sen- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 187 

tence in condemnation of it, and, consequently, the Southern 
conscience was not troubled on the subject. The conference 
were unanimous in the opinion that the deputation . should 
abstain from all intermeddling with American slavery. They 
acted according to this advice, and in all their sermons, public 
addresses, and private conversations they refrained from re- 
marks — certainly offensive remarks — on the subject of slavery; 
On their return to England they were strongly censured by 
the abolitionists for their supposed want of courage and fidelity 
in dealing with sinful slaveholders. It was considered that 
they should, at the risk of martyrdom, have borne public testi- 
mony against slavery and its evils. They might have done it, 
but they would have displayed more of foolhardiness than 
wisdom by their course. By their prudent and Christian de- 
portment they exerted a wholesome influence, and left behind 
them a fragrant reputation. 

This was the last harmonious meeting of the Triennial Con- 
vention. The abolition agitators had been kept away from the 
meeting by its Southern location, or kept in check by the pre- 
dominance of Southern sentiment, but-they had sown the seeds 
of discord and strife, which germinated and grew apace. The 
subsequent meetings of the body were increasingly disturbed 
by discussions on the subject of slavery, until the controversy 
reached its culmination at the meeting of the Convention in. 
Philadelphia, in 1844. 



XXXVIII. 

NORTHERN NECK DEACONS. 

SEVERAL of the deacons with whom I was associated in 
the Neck are entitled to a place in my Recollections. 
I have already referred to Deacon Rawleigh Dunaway, the 
grandfather of Dr. Thomas S. Dunaway, of Fredericksburg. 
When I first knew him he was about fifty-five years old, above 
the medium height, with brown hair, changing to white, lean, 
and as ill-favored as one might find among a thousand. He 
was, in several respects, a notable man. He was baptized by 
Straughan ; was his intimate friend and an enthusiastic admirer 
of his preaching. He had been for years sheriff of Lancaster 
county, and by industry and good management had elevated 
himself from an humble condition to a state of independence 
and respectability. He had been long a deacon when I first 
knew him, and was quite confirmed in his title. Soon after I 
went to the Neck my friend, Rev. Daniel Witt, made me a 
visit. When he reached the Peninsula he inquired, as he had 
been directed to do, for Mr. Rawleigh Dunaway. The person 
of whom he made the inquiry, having been connected with a 
post-office, replied that there was no man in the Neck of that 
name, but there was a Deacon R. Dunaway residing in Lan- 
caster county. That was the man inquired after, and the in- 
former had mistaken his title for his given name — a mistake 
not surprising, as the term deacon was very rarely used at that 
time and in that region as a title of respect. 

Deacon Dunaway was, more than almost any man that I 
have known, controlled by his feelings. His temperament was 
excitable, ardent, and variable. If he were called on to pray in 
a time of deep and pervasive religious feeling, and was not him- 
self in a lively frame of mind, he would pray in the most dole- 
ful manner, as if the world were just coming to an end. Judg- 
ing from his prayer you would conclude that there was neither 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 189' 

faith, nor knowledge, nor piety, nor hope on earth. If, on the 
other hand, his own feelings were excited, he would pray as if 
he had just caught a glimpse of the rising glories of the millen- 
nium. He seemed to take it for granted that everybody saw 
and felt precisely as he did. 

Much of my success in the ministry in the Neck was due to 
Deacon Dunaway. My preaching had the power to stir his 
emotions. When I saw the old man's eyes glisten, the tears, 
run down his furrowed cheeks, and his lips quiver, I knew 
that moral power was accumulating. On closing my sermon, 
I would say, ' ' Brother Dunaway, will you make an exhorta- 
tion?" He was ready for the service. He would rise slowly 
and commence his remarks with great deliberation. Gradually 
the kindling fires within would break forth into a most melting 
exhortation. In proportion to the intensity of his emotions 
would be the clearness of his thoughts, the accuracy of his 
style, and the impressiveness of his gestures. He would walk 
up and down the aisles gracefully and seemingly unconscious 
of his movements, varying his remarks to suit the necessities 
of his hearers, and hard was the heart that was not moved by 
his appeals. The whole congregation would be softened into 
tears. In his happiest addresses he was among the most im- 
pressive orators that I have ever heard. Broaddus, in his 
golden strains, and Kerr, in his seraphic appeals, did not excel 
him in the power to entrance and subdue a plain country con- 
gregation. Many were converted through his occasional and 
impassioned appeals. 

The Deacon rarely spoke publicly when his feelings were not 
excited, but when he did he seemed to be an entirely different 
man from what he was when he spoke under excitement. The 
freshness, freedom, and vigor of his expressions were all gone, 
and he was like Samson shorn of his locks. 

Brother Dunaway was one of the warmest friends I have 
ever had. There was a difference of thirty years in our ages, 
but our temperament, views, pursuits, and aspirations made us 
eminently congenial. All the time of my residence in the 
Northern Neck he was my companion, my counsellor, my 



190 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

comforter, and in all my temporal interests my guardian. He 
lived until I went to St. Louis to reside, and died of some in- 
flammatory disease when he was quite old. He was a true 
man, impulsive, not always discreet — as ardent men are not 
likely to be — but sincere and devoted in his friendships as he 
was quick in his resentments — an earnest and useful Christian. 
If I were permitted to call back the dead he would be among 
the first whose mysterious society I should seek. It would be 
pleasant to commune with him of the almost forgotten events 
in which we were mutually interested, of the wonderful and 
unanticipated scenes through which I have passed since he left 
earth, and, if it were lawful, of those still more surprising 
scenes known only to the redeemed in the spirit land. 

Thomas S. Sydnor was a convert at the first Baptist camp- 
meeting.in the Northern Neck. He came a Considerable dis- 
tance to the meeting, and was among the first to indicate a 
desire for public prayer in his behalf. He was then in the 
vigor of life, and a tall, portly, good-looking gentleman. He 
was of fine business talents, a commissioner in chancery, and 
one of the most popular citizens of Northumberland county. 
He was without a classical education, but fond of reading, and 
well informed on most subjects of general interest. From the 
hour of his conversion he commenced a decided, earnest, con- 
sistent Christain life. He was soon baptized and became a 
member of the branch of Wicomico church assembling at Coan 
meeting-house. His qualifications marked him out for the 
deaconship, and he was soon chosen for the office and entered 
on the discharge of its duties. 

Brother Sydnor was a model deacon. I have known many 
excellent men in the diaconate, but I have scarcely known one 
who entered so fully into the spirit of his office, or so diligently 
and faithfully magnified it. In him were exemplified the words 
of Paul : "He used the office of a deacon well, and purchased 
to himself a good degree," and great boldness in the faith which 
is in Christ Jesus." He was not remarkable for his spiritual 
gifts. He had less ability in public speaking and less readiness 
in extemp07 r e prayer than Deacon Dunaway. He had excel- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 191 

lent talents in the management of secular affairs, and these he 
consecrated to the interests of the church. To these he at- 
tended con amove. These he studied and labored to promote. 
He was almost constantly doing something in fulfillment of his 
office unanticipated and out of the common course. If the 
house of worship needed enlargement or repairs, they were 
promptly and diligently attended to by him. If any thing- 
could be done to increase the comfort or usefulness of the pas- 
tor, he was sure not to neglect it ; and many things of this 
kind occurred to him which less thoughtful deacons would 
have overlooked. He fulfilled the duties of his office in a 
plain, country congregation. Everything was done and con- 
ducted in a cheap, simple style. There was no high-sounding 
organ, no hired choir, and no costly pulpit ornaments ; but 
there were neatness, order, good taste, and every convenience 
for instruction and devotion — all secured by the exertions of the 
indefatigable Deacon. He lived some miles from the house of 
worship, but all the appointments for meeting he was sure to 
attend, if not kept away by causes beyond his control. He 
contributed liberally of his means for church purposes, but his 
example, his influence, and his faithful efforts to induce other 
church members to give according as God had prospered 
them to the support of his cause were worth far more than 
his generous contributions. He was a kind and earnest, but 
not rigid disciplinarian. He made due allowances for the igno- 
rance, the infirmities, and the circumstances of erring church 
members. 

It has been many years since Deacon Sydnor went to his 
long home. He left behind him a good name, and his works 
followed him. I do not know whether any stone marks the. 
resting-place of his body, but quite sure I am that the graves 
of many men of less merit have been honored by towering and 
costly monuments. He needed no memorial in stone or mar- 
ble. Coan meeting-house and Coan church, so long favored 
with the faithful and useful labors of the venerable Dr. Kirk, 
are the enduring memorials of Deacon Sydnor. 

It is hardly just to the memory of other deacons to pass 



192 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

them unnoticed in my Recollections. Deacons Colonel Samuel 
Downing and Captain Richard H. Gaskins, of Northumber- 
land, and Lawson Hathaway and Zamuth George, of Lancas- 
ter, were all excellent men, faithful deacons, and my helpers in 
the ministry. The even tenor of their lives, however, did not 
furnish incidents deserving to be recorded. They lived to 
God, but lived unknown to fame ; were loved while they lived, 
and lamented when they died ; filled up the measure of their 
years, and received, I doubt not, a bright reward. Little knew 
the world how much it was indebted to their fervent prayers, 
their unostentatious labors, and their gentle, pious influence 
for its varied blessings — temporal and spiritual. Even the 
churches which they served so long and faithfully compre- 
hended but imperfectly their moral worth and how deeply they 
were indebted for their prosperity to the prayers and toils of 
their godly deacons. 

Deacon Norris, though not wiser or better than the deacons 
named, yet on account of his marked qualities and some sin- 
gular events in his life, deserves special notice, but I must defer 
it to another number. 



XXXIX. 

NORTHERN NECK DEACONS— Continued. 

I WAS introduced to Deacon Epa. Norris at the Dover As- 
sociation in 1825. He was one of the committee at whose 
request I visited the Northern Neck. He was then about sixty 
years old, large and corpulent, with a smooth skin and a pale 
complexion. He was plain and old-fashioned in his dress, 
wearing a round-breasted coat, and was faultlessly neat in his 
appearance, and simple as a child in his manners. His culture 
had been neglected ; his information was quite limited ; his 
convictions were deep and his prejudices were strong. He was 
baptized by Lunsford, and had been trained under the ministry 
of Straughan. His religious character was very decided. He 
was eminently conscientious, fervently devout, and a demon- 
strative Christian and Baptist. No one could be with him 
a few hours without learning something of his religious char- 
acter and principles. Having been taught by Lunsford and 
Straughan, he was immovably settled in his religious opin- 
ions, and considered none of the young preachers qualified 
to instruct him. His prayers were remarkable for their sim- 
plicity and fervor, and sometimes, under excitement, he would 
deliver quite pathetic exhortations. The rigor of his religious 
principles and his uncompromising hostility to vice rendered 
him rather unpopular among his worldly neighbors. 

During the war between this country and Great Britain, 
hearing that the enemy had landed and were marching through 
the country, he saddled his horse and went forth to make ob- 
servations and inquiries. He had not gone far before he fell in 
with a marauding party, and was captured as a supposed scout, 
and carried on one of the enemy's vessels lying in the Chesa- 
peake bay. On being examined as to the strength and position 
of the American forces, he said to the officer : "You may kill 
me, but you cannot make me tell you anything about our 



194 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

army." He was retained on board until his linen became 
soiled, and one of the officers gave him a ruffled shirt, which 
he thankfully accepted and put on, carefully concealing the 
ruffles under his vest. He seems to have made a favorable 
impression on the officers, for he was invited to a dining party 
on the flag-ship of the fleet, and accepted the invitation. At 
the close of the feast there were toasts and songs. At length 
Mr. Norris was called on for a song. He modestly declined ; 
but there was a general demonstration of a desire that he should 
sing. At length he yielded. He had a fine voice, and could 
sing the familiar hymns of the day in most plaintive tunes. He 
struck up, in a solemn tune, the beautiful Psalm of Watts : 

"Sweet is the work, my God ! my King ! 
To praise thy name, give thanks and sing." 

The remembrance of his home and family and the pleasant 
meetings with his brethren, as contrasted with his present cap- 
tive state, softened his heart, and he sung, with tearful eyes, 
the words : 

" Fools never lift their thoughts so high ; 
Like brutes they live — like brutes they die ; 
Like grass they nourish, till thy breath 
Blasts them in everlasting death." 

Before the old man had finished his psalm all merriment had 
ceased, and a deep solemnity pervaded the festal party. At 
the close of the singing the Commodore said: "Mr. Norris, 
you are a good man, and you shall be sent home." As soon 
as arrangements could be made he bade adieu to the officers, 
was lowered into a boat and set ashore, with a liberal supply of 
salt, then very scarce and valuable in the Northern Neck. He 
soon reached his distressed family, with a bosom swelling with 
gratitude and delight, and adorned, as it never was before or 
afterwards, with a fine ruffled shirt. 

Another event in the life of Deacon Norris equally illustra- 
tive of his character occurred not long before my settlement 
in the Neck. He had a corn-shucking at his house — a custom 
well understood in Virginia. It was usual on such an occasion 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 195 

to supply the laborers bountifully with strong drink. The old 
man not only furnished the stimulant, but partook of it freely 
himself, and became intoxicated. The news flew rapidly 
through the county that Mr. Norris was drunk at his corn- 
shucking. The charge could neither be denied nor extenuated. 
The report gave great satisfaction to his dissipated neighbors, 
who had been annoyed by his upright example and his sharp 
reproofs. It had turned out as they had predicted ; he was 
not better than other people. In a short time he had occasion 
to go to Nuttsville, a store and a resort for his drinking neigh- 
bors. When they saw him approaching they resolved to have 
some amusement with him : ' ' Mr. Norris, we hear that you 
got drunk at the corn-shucking at your house?" "Yes," 
said the Deacon, ' ' I did. I don't deny it. I am not angry with 
you because you laugh at me — I deserve to be laughed at. I 
am willing to lie down on the ground and let you wipe your 
feet upon me. If the Lord will forgive me, another drop of 
spirit shall never go down my throat. ' ' There was no fun in 
laughing at such a penitent as he was. His revilers were 
struck dumb, and were obliged to admit that there was a spirit 
in him which they did not possess. He kept his pledge to the 
hour of his death. There was not a physician on earth on 
whose prescription he would have tasted liquor had he been 
assured that the preservation of his life depended on his 
doing it. 

When I went to reside in the Northern Neck Deacon Norris 
received me very cordially. It was not long, however, before 
an event occurred by which he was temporarily alienated from 
me. At that time the use of collars separate from shirts was 
just coming into fashion. By chance, I borrowed a collar, and 
while using it spent a night at the plain and hospitable home 
of the Deacon. On rising in the morning, I remarked that I 
had never worn a collar before — that I was pleased with it, 
and that I must get me a supply of collars. He seemed to be 
awakened into solemn meditation. After some delay he said : 
"lam not sure that it is right to wear collars." Without the 
slightest doubt of my ability to convince him that there was 



196 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

nothing wrong in the practice, I commenced an argument in 
its favor. The more I argued on the subject the more deeply 
he seemed to be convinced that it was sinful. ' ' It is," he said, 
' ' hypocrisy — a make-believe. You pretend to have on a clean 
shirt, and you haven't." As a crowning argument, he said 
that Lunsford and Straughan never wore collars, and he was 
sure if they were living they would not do it. Having failed 
in argument, I resolved to see what I could do in the way of 
conciliation. I said to him : "Brother Norris, if my wearing 
collars will hurt your feelings, I will not wear them." "You 
think it right to wear them," said the old man, " and that is 
as bad as if you were to do it" I could avoid the practice, 
but could not change my opinion about it, and we parted, leav- 
ing the question undecided. 

I was willing to let it drop, but Deacon Norris was not a man 
to yield his convictions. At every opportunity the subject 
was rediscussed, and the same arguments were repeated. It 
chanced that Deacon Gaskins and myself spent a night with 
Brother Norris. Gaskins had a- more discriminating and 
logical mind than Norris. The grave question about the law- 
fulness of wearing collars came up for discussion. I was glad 
to commit it to the hands of the two deacons. Deacon Norris 
repeated his stereotyped argument : " It is hypocrisy ; you pre- 
tend to have on a clean shirt, and haven't." Deacon Gaskins 
replied : "Brother Norris, when you have been from home and 
your cravat has become soiled on the outside, do you never 
turn it and put the clean side out ? " It was a nail driven in a 
sure place. Deacon Norris was accustomed, as was the fashion 
of the day, to wear a cravat of spotless white, carefully tied at 
the back of his neck. He was too honest to deny that he 
sometimes turned his cravat for the purpose of concealing its 
dirt, and of too much penetration not to perceive that the act 
involved the very principle which he was so fiercely condemn- 
ing. He was for a while silent, evidently endeavoring to see 
if there were any escape from the consequence that followed 
the confession that he was bound to make. He could see no 
door of deliverance. With a sorrowful countenance and signs 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 197 

of deep penitence, he said : ' ' Yes, Brother Gaskins, I have ; 
but, if the Lord will forgive me, I will never do it again." 
Whether the old man needed forgiveness for the supposed fault, 
I cannot say, but it is quite certain that, whether forgiven or 
not, he never again turned his cravat to conceal its soiled ex- 
terior. 

For months the controversy was continued with undimin- 
ished earnestness, but without any increase of light. At length 
it was closed. The Deacon and I were together at Mrs. Down- 
ing' s. She was an intelligent, pious old Baptist, of the Luns- 
ford school. He proposed that the question should be decided 
by her, and I gladly assented to the proposition. Brother 
Norris, to be sure of a favorable decision, undertook to state 
the case. Mrs. Downing stopped him in the midst of his dis- 
course with the question : "Doesn't Brother Jeter wear col- 
lars?" On learning that he did not, she said: "Well, he 
must have some. I don't know how he can get along without 
them." "See here, child," said the Deacon, and endeavored 
to renew his argument ; but the good sister would not hear it. 
He was silenced and gave up the controversy, but was neither 
convinced nor satisfied. Some time afterwards he asked for a 
letter of dismission from the Morattico church, of which I was 
pastor, and of which he had been an honored deacon for thirty 
years, to join a church nearer to him, in an adjoining county. 
Convenience was the plea for the change, but the brethren all 
thought that the trouble about the collar was at the bottom 
of it. . 

It was not long before the old brother learned that wearing 
a collar was not the worst evil that could afflict a church. He 
soon got into great difficulties in his new relation — difficulties 
in nowise affecting his Christian character, but greatly disturb- 
ing the repose of his old age. Years before I left the Neck 
he had entirely forgiven, or at least overlooked, my sin of 
wearing a collar, and was in cordial friendship with me. 

When Dr. Reed, of London, visited the camp-meeting in 
the Neck he spent a night with Deacon Norris, and, in his re- 
port of the visit, gave a very interesting account of the Deacon 



198 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

and of his conversation and hospitality. We have room for 
only a paragraph : 

''After taking repast, and joining in prayer with a cluster of 
our friends beneath a leafy alcove at the back of one of the 
tents (at the camp-ground), we started for Deacon Norris' 
residence. His lad drove me in a chaise, while he rode behind 
with a parent's care to see that all was done well. He ex- 
changed pleasant words with me as occasion allowed, and ever 
and anon was giving his cautions to the driver : ' Now, boy, 
mind those stumps — take care of those roots — keep a tight 
rein here' — and the whole was done in evident reference to me. 
When we alighted he received me to his house with that sim- 
plicity and kindness which are the essence of all true politeness. 
He took my hand, and with a beaming face and tearful eye, 
he said : ' Now, sir, this is your home while you stay ; and the 
longer you stay the more I shall be honored. A plain place ; 
but all of it — servants, house, garden — is yours. Only make 
me happy by letting me know what you want. ' I had small 
reply to offer. All this was said in the deep and wild forest, 
and the manner and expression would not have dishonored St. 
James' ; it affected me with tenderness and surprise." 

It is, perhaps, more than thirty years since Deacon Norris 
went to his long home. He was a good man, but had his im- 
perfections — peculiarities, perhaps, they should be called. His 
faults, if faults they were, were virtues over-rigid hardened 
into wrong. His conscientiousness was noble ; but he erred 
in wishing to make his conscience the rule for other people's 
conduct. His deep convictions were commendable, but they 
betrayed him into intolerant dogmatism. He could never have 
been a great man ; but with better training and under other 
circumstances he would have been a noble specimen of Chris- 
tain piety, and might have been a martyr in the cause of Christ. 
With all his oddities, I" loved and venerated him, and cherish 
unfeigned respect for his memory. 



XL. 

NOR THERN NECK INCIDENTS. 

DURING my residence in Northumberland I visited Wil-' 
liamsburg to assist in settling a church difficulty. I was 
accompanied by my friend, Brodie S. Hull, a cousin of my 
wife. On our return we crossed the Rappahannock, river in a 
ferry-boat from Urbanna, Middlesex county. At this point 
the river is four or five miles wide, and, being open to the 
Chesapeake bay, is liable to be very rough. When we reached 
the mouth of Urbanna creek there was a dark and threatening- 
cloud lying off to the west, and I said to the ferrymen : " I fear 
we shall have bad weather before we can get across the river. ' y 
They replied, cheerfully, that there was no danger, for that we 
would reach the opposite shore before the cloud could come 
up. I was silent, supposing that they understood the situation 
better than I did. We dashed into the river, but before we 
got more than half way across it the storm was upon us in 
great fury. The wind blew down the river directly toward the 
bay, and soon the billows were surging high and angry. The 
ferrymen were at the oars, my friend Hull had hold of the 
helm, and my lot was to hold the horses. The boat was dashed 
hither and thither as if it had been a cork, and the horses were 
unable to keep their feet. At one time I was prostrate in the 
bottom of the boat with a horse lying on each side of me, and 
escaped damage only by being more active than the horses. I 
was on my feet before they had begun to struggle. The ferry- 
men lost heart, and for a time we were at the mercy of the 
waves. To increase our peril, one of them dropped his oar, 
and barely succeeded, by a desperate effort, in recovering- it. 
After painful delay, and a struggle for life, the rowers succeeded 
in changing the course of the boat so as to quarter the billows 
and land her far below the point of destination. 

After hours of anxious toiling we safely reached the shore. 



200 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

I have been exposed to many perils, by land and water, but 
probably never to a greater than this. At one time our de- 
struction seemed inevitable, and it was a wonderful mercy thart 
we were delivered. I have never felt greater joy than when 
my feet touched the Lancaster shore, and it was, I trust, a joy 
not unmixed with gratitude to God, and an earnest purpose to 
dedicate anew to him a life which he had so graciously pre- 
served. 

There was one feeling in my experience in the hour of dan- 
ger which, so far as I am informed, was peculiar to myself. It 
is said that misery loves company. In my case the saying was 
more than verified. I felt a pleasure, not only that my friend 
Hull was sharing with me in the danger and alarm of the voy- 
age, but that if I should die he would be my companion in 
death. I cherished the hope that beyond the mysterious 
boundary of time, on the shore of eternity, we should have a 
companionship that would serve to break the loneliness of our 
situation. Whether there was any foundation for that hope 
my friend now knows better than I do. He was a consistent 
professor of religion, and died while he was comparatively 
young, and, though I did not accompany him, he was, I trust, 
escorted by angels to the paradise of God. 

A singular event occurred in my ministry while I lived in the 
Neck. I had an appointment to preach at White Chapel, in 
the upper end of Lancaster county. It was an old colonial 
edifice, large, much out of repair, and little used. The day 
was showery, but the congregation, considering the weather, 
was good. My text was Luke xiii : 24 : ' ' Strive to enter in at 
the strait gate ; for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, 
and shall not be able. ' ' I had proceeded some distance in my 
discourse, with usual freedom, when a large mass of plaster, 
more than two feet square and several inches thick, fell from 
the lofty ceiling, just grazing me in its descent. Had it fallen 
on my head it would probably have killed me, or would cer- 
tainly have stunned and seriously wounded me. I was alarmed, 
but, finding the danger over, I quickly proceeded to make 
extempore remarks, suggested by the event, on the perils to 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 201 

which we are constantly exposed, the uncertainty of life, and 
the importance of being always prepared for our end. 
i At that period of my ministry I preached not without care- 
ful preparation for the work, but without taking notes into the 
pulpit. On this occasion I had read my text, shut up the 
Bible, and had no memento of my discourse. When I had 
finished my unpremeditated remarks I essayed to recommence 
my sermon, but all recollection of the text and subject was en- 
tirely effaced from my mind. I stood and endeavored to recall 
the theme of my discourse. My efforts were vain, and my situ- 
ation was becoming more and more embarrassing. I turned 
to the left, where sat my friend, Deacon Dunaway, and asked 
him if he could tell me what I was preaching about. He 
seemed t0 be paralyzed, or rather petrified, by the question. 
He sat with his eyes and mouth stretched wide open, without 
moving a muscle. He would have been a model of a perplexed 
mind for an artist. Finding no help from that source I gradu- 
ally turned to the right. Deacon Norris, a careful hearer, and 
noted for remembering the texts of sermons, seeing that I was 
directing my eyes toward him, cast his head down on the back 
of the pew before him, as much as to say, "Don't ask me for 
your text." So thoroughly were the congregation in sym- 
pathy with me in the alarm caused by the falling of the plaster, 
and the remarks which the event had suggested, that. probably 
not one of them remembered my text. 

Just as I was about to take my seat the text and my dis- 
course flashed on my mind, and I commenced my remarks 
precisely at the point at which they had been interrupted, and 
finished my sermon with freedom and a solemnity perhaps in- 
tensified by the danger which I had escaped. 

I have heard of two ministers who, having forgotten their 
texts, were able to continue their discourses because they were 
endowed with remarkable volubility. For my part, I could 
not preach without a text, and could not always proceed even 
with one. Not very long after my removal to the Neck I had 
an appointment for preaching at the house of Deacon Duna- 
way. The morning was inclement, the congregation was not 



202 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

large, and my mind, when I attempted to preach, was so dark 
and my heart so apathetic that I deemed it better to stop, and 
I called on the brethren to sing. Deacon Norris, perceiving 
my embarrassment, fell on his knees, saying, "Let us pray." 
The audience was in full sympathy with the proposal, and he 
offered one of the simplest, most tender and moving prayers 
that I have ever heard. At its close almost every person pres- 
ent was in tears, and the time spent in singing and prayer 
proved to be unusually profitable. Several persons made a 
profession of faith in Christ, of whom, if I rightly remember, 
Dr. Kirk — the most valuable of all the converts made during 
my residence in the Neck — was one. 

God wisely orders all events. My failure to preach at Deacon 
Dunaway's seemed to result in great good. Who can say what 
eternity may reveal of the benefits flowing from the falling of the 
plaster at White Chapel and the embarrassment that followed ? 

At the camp-meeting of 1834 a young man was present 
whose case awakened a deep interest, and which I have fre- 
quently had occasion to mention. He was unusually hand- 
some, genteel in his appearance, intelligent, amiable, dignified, 
and moral. He was a mechanic, but at the head of his busi- 
ness — a very important business. He had not long been a 
resident of the Neck, but had gained many friends. He came 
to the meeting with the purpose of remaining on the ground. 
An unusual desire was awakened for his conversion. By 
many, special prayer was made for him. Uncommon pains 
were taken by ministers and laymen to interest him on the 
subject of religion. He listened respectfully to all that was 
said to him concerning it. He admitted its necessity, and 
seemed to be on the point of yielding to the claims of the gos- 
pel. Sometimes tears would arise in his eyes, but he would 
wipe them away as if he thought it unmanly to weep. The 
meeting closed leaving him thoughtful, serious, almost per- 
suaded to be a Christian, but still unconverted. It was a grief 
to many that he had not given his heart to God, but it was 
earnestly hoped that the impressions made on his mind would 
result in his conversion. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 203 

At the close of the meeting I left the Neck, and was absent 
several weeks. On my return, before I reached my home, I 
heard that the promising young man was dead. I was shocked 
by the intelligence, and hastened to obtain minute and accurate 
information concerning his sickness and death. I learned that 
soon after the meeting referred to above he was seized with 
bilious fever, common in that region in autumn. Every effort 
was made which kindness and skill could suggest to check the 
disease, but made in vain. The sufferer was delirious from the 
commencement of the attack till a short time before his death. 
Then the fever having abated, and nature being almost ex- 
hausted, he awoke to a momentary consciousness. Finding 
himself covered with blistering plasters, he felt his pulseless 
wrists, and exclaimed with a faltering voice : "I am dying — 
and, great God ! what a death ! ' ' These were his last words. 
In a few moments he was delirious again, and soon he passed 
into eternity. The young man, in the bloom of life and among 
comparative strangers, died a hopeless death. 

After some weeks I preached his funeral sermon from Mark 
x: 21: "One thing thou lackest." I endeavored to impress 
on the minds of the young that piety — supreme devotion to 
Christ — is man's supreme necessity, for which neither amiable- 
ness, nor morality, nor wealth, nor honor, nor all together, 
can be any substitute. As no relatives of the deceased were 
present, I spoke with a freedom and fullness iiP which, under 
other circumstances, I could not have indulged. It was one 
of the saddest funeral services in which I have ever been en- 
gaged. Often, in the course of my ministry, I have told the 
story of the poor young man as a warning to those who pro- 
crastinate their repentance, and not unfrequently with the most 
solemn and, I have reason to think, with the most beneficial 
effects. I would not affirm that that lovely young man was 
lost, but who for a world would die such a death ? 



XLI. 

RESIDENCE IN RICHMOND, 

1 REMOVED to this city at the beginning of the year 1836, 
and became the pastor of the First Baptist church. My 
immediate predecessor in the office was Rev. I. T. Hinton. 
He was an Englishman, a brother of John Howard Hinton, 
quite distinguished as a preacher among the English Baptists, 
and of no mean reputation as an author on both sides of the 
Atlantic, fcaac T. was a man of sharp intellect, fair educa- 
tion, and of admirable gifts for organizing. In this quality he 
differed widely from his predecessor, Rev. John Kerr, with 
whom he served a year as an assistant pastor, and who, with 
eminent qualifications for gathering a church, was little fitted 
for training it for efficiency. Hinton resigned his charge after 
a pastorate of two years to remove to the city of Chicago, 
mainly on account of his aversion to slavery. After a few 
years' experience he learned that slavery was not the only nor 
the worst evil that could afflict a church, and returning to the 
South fell a victim to yellow fever in New Orleans in 1847, and 
his death was widely and deeply lamented. 

I found the church in an admirable state of organization 
from the labors and timely suggestions of its late pastor. It 
was divided into districts, the members in every district placed 
under suitable supervision, plans for usefulness judiciously 
arranged, and the church manual containing the name and 
residence of every member, and much valuable information for 
the assistance of the pastor. The church was as systematically 
organized as any well-drilled military company. 

On the first Lord's-day_ morning of January I preached my 
introductory sermon before the church from I Corinthians ii : 2: 
"For I determined not to know anything among you, save 
Jesus Christ, and him crucified." In considering the theme of 
the apostolic ministry, "Jesus Christ, and him crucified," I 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 205 

noticed its extent, importance, and efficacy, and closed with 
remarks pertinent to my entrance on the pastorate. At night 
appropriate services were held in the church, in which Elders 
J. B. Taylor, Addison Hall, Samuel Cornelius, W. F. Nelson, 
and H. Keeling participated, all of whom have closed their 
labors and entered on their reward. 

It is not my purpose to give a detailed account of my life 
while pastor of the church, but to record my recollections of 
some prominent events and my views of a few distinguished 
persons with whom I was associated during that period. It 
will be necessary, however, for the better understanding of this 
record, that I should give a brief sketch of my pastorate. My 
connection with the church continued about thirteen years and 
a half. It was an eventful and important period of my life. I 
was brought into a new, responsible, and difficult sphere of 
activity. My relations with the church throughout the whole 
time of my pastorate were harmonious and pleasant. It was 
to me a season of great anxiety and toil, as well as of hopeful- 
ness and pleasure. My labors and faithfulness were not so 
great as they might have been, but at their close I had little 
cause of self-reproach. I had endeavored, with diligence and 
earnestness, to perform the varied and onerous duties of my 
office. 

During the time I was called to taste the bitter cup of afflic- 
tion. My mother, for whom I cherished the most filial and 
tender affection, passed to her long home. A man may have 
many friends, but he can have only one mother ; and he that 
loses a good mother sustains an irreparable loss. It has been 
to me a life-long grief that my mother did not live until I had 
some opportunity of requiting her many years of toil, care, 
and kindness on my behalf. It is to me, in my old age, a 
great pleasure that I have no recollection of having disobeyed 
her or uttered a disrespectful word to her. In the same period 
I followed to the grave my second wife, Sarah Ann, nee Gas- 
kins, after a protracted illness, and the most triumphant death 
which, in a ministry of more than fifty years, it has been my 
privilege to witness. I really do not know how such calmness, 



206 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

such hope, such joy, such perfect self-possession, such cour- 
age and elevation of mind as she displayed in the immediate 
and certain prospect of death, on the part of one in the me- 
ridian of life, could be accounted for, except on the supposi- 
tion that she was sustained and cheered by divine grace. The 
hour of her death was the hour of her triumph and rapture, 
and she might well have been conveyed to the tomb — as I 
heard Spurgeon express the wish that he might be — in a white 
hearse, adorned with white plumes and drawn by white horses, 
and accompanied by a procession with songs of triumph and 
the sound of trumpets. Her death was a fitting end of her life 
of unostentatious and fervent piety. 

My success in this pastorate, while it was not commensurate 
with my desire for usefulness, called for devout thanksgiving to 
God. During this period the church enjoyed several precious 
revivals and received large and valuable accessions. I bap- 
tized about 1,000 persons, white and colored, in connection 
with the church, many of whom became ministers of the word 
of God — among them I may mention Dr. Garlick, of this city, 
and Dr. Henson, of Philadelphia. The church, numbering 
about 300 members when I took charge of it, contained more 
than 600 when I resigned my pastorate. It would be invidious 
to compare those I left in the church with those whom I found 
in it, but this much may be fairly said : Many of the members 
introduced into it during my labors were noble specimens of 
piety and activity, who have continued, through the long 
period of thirty years, and under the pastorates of Manly, 
Burrows, and Warren, to be pillars in the house of God. The 
most important event of my ministry was probably the organiza- 
tion of the First African church, of which I purpose to furnish 
an account in my next article. 

In the early part of the year 1849 I was invited to take 
charge of the Second Baptist church in St. Louis as a succes- 
sor of Dr. S. Lynd. To me few events could have been more 
unexpected than this request. I knew nothing of the church 
and the church knew little of me. For several reasons the 
call impressed me favorably. I had been long in Richmond, 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 207 

and had but little prospect of doing more than maintaining the 
church in the measure of prosperity to which it had reached. 
I had visited St. Louis in the year 1844, and was profoundly 
impressed with its importance as a field of evangelical labor. 
I then thought, as I still think, that no place on the continent 
offered or could offer greater prospects for permanent success 
in ministerial labor. After considerable delay, great anxiety, 
and much doubt as to my duty, I accepted the call. 

Had I formed the slightest conception of the pain of sepa- 
rating from a people among whom I had so long and pleasantly 
labored, and who had for me, as I had for them, so tender an 
affection, I should not for a moment have thought of breaking 
the ties which united us. I took leave of them at the close of 
an afternoon communion service. I may be permitted to say 
that I, at least, have never passed through such a trial. There 
were the aged brethren and sisters, with whom I had taken 
sweet counsel ; there were the younger members converted 
under my ministry, baptized by my hands, and edified by my 
instructions ; there were many whom I had united in the bonds 
of matrimony, and more still whose loved ones I had followed 
with tearful eyes to the tomb, and to all these, at the close of a 
solemn communion season, I was to extend the parting hand. 
It was too much to endure. Tears, and sighs, and sobs made 
a scene such as I have rarely, perhaps never, on any other 
occasion witnessed. I lamented my determination to leave the 
church, but I had gone too far to think of retracing my steps. 
I had promised to go to St. Louis, and to St. Louis I must go. 
In a future article I may give some account of the events which 
I remember there. 

Great changes have taken place in the First church since I 
resigned the oversight of it. Its prosperity has been main- 
tained and increased. Under different pastorates its member- 
ship has been augmented, and their resources and efficiency, 
notwithstanding the great calamities through which the city has 
passed, have not been diminished. The continued vitality and 
fruitfulness of the old church call for thankseivine: to the 
Lord. Where is the church of which I took charge in 1836? 



208 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

A few of the members — perhaps a dozen — are now, with gray 
locks, wrinkled countenances, and tottering steps, approaching 
the end of their journey, while the main body of the sacra- 
mental host have passed the river and are reposing on the shore 
that lies not within the range of mortal vision. The bodies of 
many of them I followed to the cemetery while I was pastor of 
the church, and one after another, and attended by one pastor 
or another, they have been removed to the city cemeteries. 



XLII. 

THE ORGANIZATION OF THE FIRST AFRICAN 
CHURCH IN RICHMOND. 

WHEN I came to Richmond the First church contained 
about 2,000 colored members, and the number was con- 
siderably augmented while they were under my charge. They 
were a heavy burden on the white members of the church. 
Beside the expense of providing for, their instruction, much 
time and labor were devoted to the exercise of discipline among 
them. 

There were several important reasons for organizing them 
into a separate and independent church. The space allotted 
for their use in the house of worship was utterly insufficient for 
their accommodation. The style of preaching demanded by 
the white congregation was not well adapted to the instruction 
of the colored people. Besides, it was quite impossible for the 
pastor, with a large white congregation under his care, to pay 
much attention to the necessities of the colored portion of his 
flock. A pastor who should devote his whole time, or the 
chief part of it, to their interests seemed to be imperatively 
demanded. 

There were, however,' very serious difficulties in the way of 
organizing a colored church. A house of worship, of no incon- 
siderable extent, would be needed for their accommodation, 
and the means of procuring it could not be easily obtained. 
There was, however, a more formidable obstacle to the enter- 
prise than the lack of money. Public sentiment was opposed 
to it. The unfortunate Southampton insurrection had led to 
the enactment of stringent laws in regard to the assembling of 
negroes for religious worship or any other purpose. They 
were forbidden to meet in any considerable number except in 
the presence and under the supervision of white persons. The 
abolition excitement at the North was producing a most un- 



210 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

pleasant counter-excitement at the South. All efforts for 
meliorating the condition of the slaves were opposed by many 
on the ground that they favored the designs of the abolitionists. 
Many pious people looked with distrust, if not with hostility, on 
all new measures for the religious instruction of the negroes. 
All classes of irreligious persons — sceptics, gamblers, bar-keep- 
ers, and the like, of whom Richmond at that time had her full 
share — were bitter and fierce in their opposition to the proposed 
organization. They were hostile, indeed, to all religion, but 
as the white churches were too well fortified by public senti- 
ment to be safely attacked, they concentrated their opposition 
against the proposed African church, and appealed to the fears 
excited by the recent insurrection, and to the feeling of indig- 
nation prevailing against the abolitionists, to prevent the 
execution of the scheme. 

The church, after much anxious consultation, resolved to 
purchase a lot, build a new house, and make arrangements for 
the exclusive occupancy of the old house by the colored por- 
tion of the church. To this resolution we are indebted for the 
spacious and solid building now known as the First Baptist 
church, at the corner of Broad and Twelfth streets, and for 
the still more capacious edifice called the First African church, 
standing on the ground long occupied by the old and venerable 
Baptist church, in which sat for a time the distinguished Con- 
vention of 1829-'30, which remodeled the State Constitution, 
and on whose floor were laid the dead and dying at the time of 
the memorable conflagration of the theatre. The new house 
was built by great exertions and great sacrifices, in which the 
noble sisters bore a conspicuous part. Deacons James Sizer and 
Archibald Thomas, by their liberality and their personal atten- 
tions, contributed largely to the completion and excellent 
arrangements of the building. It is proper, too, to say that to 
Mr. James Thomas, Jr., then just commencing his successful 
financial career, more than to any other man, living or dead, 
have the colored people been indebted for the valuable house 
which they long occupied, and which has been succeeded by 
their present edifice, undoubtedly the largest house of worship 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 211 

in the State. The old house and lot were valued by impartial 
judges, the church made a contribution of $3,000 to secure the 
property for the use of the colored people, and the owners of 
slaves were solicited to aid in the enterprise. The personal 
application to them for help was assigned to Mr. Thomas, and 
right nobly and most successfully did he perform his task. His 
acquaintance with the tobacco merchants and manufacturers - 
gave him advantage for the work which few possessed and 
which only he was willing to employ. 

The African church was organized in the year 1842. Many- 
difficulties had to be obviated in its organization. It was 
deemed wise to conform the church to the State laws and the 
municipal regulations. Its meetings were held only in the day 
time, and in the presence of white persons. The discipline of 
the church was lodged in their own hands, but owing to their 
inexperience in ecclesiastical government it was deemed better 
that an appeal should be granted to aggrieved members to* 
a strong white committee appointed by the mother church — a 
privilege which was probably never exercised. The law re- 
quired that the religious instructor should be a white man, but. 
if there had been no such restriction it would probably have- 
been impossible to find a colored man suited for the office. 

After some delay and much earnest inquiry, Rev. Robert 
Ryland, president of Richmond College, was elected to the 
office. His official duties were not onerous, and as his after- 
noons (Saturdays and Sundays) were unoccupied, and the 
pastorate would make no great draft on his intellectual! 
powers, he was unanimously selected for the important post.. 
Of all men he was best suited for it. Deriving his support: 
from his college services, he demanded but a small salary 
of the church, and that he devoted to the promotion of 
their interests. The colored people were emotional, fond of 
excitement, and would have been pleased with a declamatory 
and superficial preacher. Dr. Ryland — not then Doctor, but 
he soon received the title — was an eminently plain, instructive^ 
and practical preacher, dealing chiefly with the conscience 
rather than the passions. His aim was to make his hearers 



212 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

think rather than to feel, and to act rather than to speculate. 
His ministry was precisely adapted to correct the errors and to 
repress the extravagances into which his hearers were prone to 
run. 

The pastorate of Dr. Ryland was eminently successful. The 
colored people soon became convinced that he was their sin- 
cere friend, seeking not theirs, but them, and endeavoring by 
all means to promote their best interests. Great numbers 
were converted by his ministry and baptized by him. He 
stated that other pastors had difficulty in persuading their hearers 
to be baptized, but that his greatest trouble was to prevent his 
hearers from being baptized prematurely. He continued his 
labors among his flock until, at the close of the late war, when 
the negroes were freed, our social and civil institutions were 
overthrown, and it was supposed by those who assumed to 
be the leaders of the colored people that they needed a pastor 
more in sympathy with the new order of things, and the Doc- 
tor quietly retired from the post which he had so long and so 
usefully filled. Multitudes of negroes here remember the faith- 
ful and disinterested labors of their old pastor with profound 
gratitude,, and hold his name in the highest veneration. 

The labors of Dr. Ryland contributed largely to the almost 
unparalleled religious prosperity of the colored people in this 
city. They have five large houses of worship and a mem- 
bership of over 13,000; this number, however, is nominal 
rather than exact. It is not possible for the churches, in the 
homeless condition and with the migratory habits of their 
members, to keep exact registers of them. Still they approxi- 
mate the number stated, and their progress in knowledge and 
efficiency is truly remarkable and gratifying. The organization 
of the First African church marks an era in the history of the 
evangelization of the colored people in this city. It may be 
proper to state that there were prosperous African churches in 
Norfolk, and Petersburg, and perhaps other places, before one 
was formed here. 

The reader may desire to know what was the result of the 
opposition to the organization of the African church. It led to 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 213 

no violence, but continued for years to display itself in constant 
watching for violations of the laws, complaints, and reproaches. 
The high character of Dr. Ryland and his prudent course 
gradually, among all pious, and even considerate people, quelled 
opposition and secured their confidence in the wisdom and 
usefulness of the measure. Attempts were made to have its 
active supporters indicted by the grand jury, but they failed. 

I desire to repeat a fact in honor of Rev. William S. Plumer 
which I have several times published. While the formation of 
the African church was in contemplation, as I was desirous to 
have the sympathy and countenance of the Protestant pastors 
in the enterprise, I consulted some of them on the subject, and 
was advised to call a meeting of the clergy and ask their 
advice. When I mentioned the matter to Dr. Plumer, then 
pastor of the First Presbyterian church of this city, and a very 
popular preacher, he said : ' 'Don't do it. The clergy may de- 
cide against your plan, but it is right. The law is in your favor. 
Go forward in the work, and if you have trouble I will stand 
by you." When he heard that an effort was being made to 
secure an indictment from the grand jury against the persons 
who had the meetings of the church in charge, the Doctor 
came to me and said : "I wish you to understand that in any 
difficulties you may have concerning the African church I am 
to go halves with you. ' ' It was a noble offer, and as honest 
and firm as it was noble. There were other ministers, I had 
reason to suspect, who would, from sectarian influence, have 
been quite pleased if the enterprise had ended in defeat and 
reproach. 



XLIIL 
THE WAR ON THE THEA TRE. 

THE burning of the theatre in this city, in the year 1811, 
was the most fearful tragedy which occurred in the coun- 
try during my youth. Since then steamboat and railroad dis- 
asters and terrible conflagrations have been so multiplied that 
they have ceased to awaken much interest, except among per- 
sons who are directly or indirectly concerned in them. We 
now hear of the sinking of a noble ocean steamer, with hun- 
dreds of valuable passengers on board, and hardly deem it 
necessary to inquire for her name, the latitude in which she 
sunk, or the causes of the direful catastrophe. It was far 
otherwise when the theatre was burned. The whole country 
was filled with amazement and sorrow. For weeks it was 
almost the only theme of conversation for hundreds of miles 
around the scene of the disaster. 

I well remember when an uncle, during the gleeful Christmas 
days, brought from the post-office the frightful intelligence that 
the theatre in Richmond had been burned and a large number 
of citizens and visitors had perished in the flames. It made a 
profound impression on my boyish imagination. Of such a 
calamity I had never heard before. Of a theatre I had little 
or no knowledge, but I had a vivid conception of the horrors 
of being consumed in a burning building. No event in all my 
early years produced such a deep, pervasive, and enduring im- 
pression in the State as did the conflagration of the theatre and 
the deplorable sufferings and losses by which it was accom- 
panied. 

When I first visited the city, no spot so impressed me with 
solemnity and awe as the vestibule of the Monumental church, 
standing on the spot occupied by the ill-fated theatre, and 
covering the ashes and bones of those who perished in its con- 
flagration. The general impression was that the burning of 



I 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 215 

the theatre was a clear manifestation of its divine condemna- 
tion. This mode of reasoning was not new. In the days of 
Jesus there were persons who believed that the Galileans whose 
blood had mingled with their sacrifices, and the eighteen who 
were slain by the falling of the tower in Siloam, were sinners 
above all men, because they suffered such things. The Savior 
corrected the mistake. "I tell you nay," said he; they were 
not the chief sinners. The burning of a theatre no more 
proves that theatrical exhibitions are wrong than the burning 
of a church proves that the preaching of the gospel is wrong. 
For a time, however, there was no desire among the citizens 
of Richmond for theatrical amusements. By degrees the ter- 
rors of the burning theatre faded from the public memory, and 
another theatre was erected in the city. 

In the winter of 1837-'38 theatrical exhibitions were not only 
re-established, but largely patronized in the city. Many of the 
plays were believed to be of demoralizing influence, and some 
of the scenes offensive to a refined and virtuous taste. Several 
of the city pastors deemed it their duty to make united efforts 
to arrest what appeared to them to be the licentious and 
demoralizing influence of theatrical amusements. The Rev. 
Dr. W. S. Plumer, then in the vigor of his manhood, led the 
assault. He preached in his church, on Franklin below Gov- 
ernor street, to a large congregation, from Matt, vi : 13 : "Lead 
us not into temptation." I did not hear the sermon, but, judg- 
ing from the abilities of the preacher and from common report, 
I have no doubt that he made a vivid exhibition of the tempta- 
tions and dangers connected with attendance on theatrical 
amusements as they were then conducted, and the duty of all 
to avoid evils from which they prayed to be delivered. Rev. W. 
A. Smith, D. D. , then stationed at Trinity Methodist church, 
on Franklin street, founded his discourse against theatrical 
amusements on Gal. v : 19-21. This sermon I heard. It was 
delivered to a crowded and deeply interested audience. The 
aim of the preacher was to show that theatrical amusements 
originated in human depravity x and intensified the evil from 
which they flowed. Wherever there were theatres, grog- 



216 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

shops, houses of licentiousness, and other places of dissipation 
and vice were sure to flourish. Of the sermon of Dr. Wood- 
bridge, of the Monumental church, I have no definite recollec- 
tion, but infer from his intelligence and piety that it was a well- 
directed and vigorous attack on the evils of theatre-going. 

Of my own sermon on the subject, as I remember it more 
distinctly, I may be indulged in giving a fuller account. It 
was the second in the series, and delivered on a Sunday even- 
ing, in the old First Baptist church, on the spot now occupied 
by the First African, crowded to its utmost capacity. My text 
was I Thess. v: 22: "Abstain from all appearance of evil." 
After a brief exposition of the text I attempted to show that 
theatrical entertainments have been condemned by great num- 
bers of the wisest and best men of every age ; that they are an 
amusement utterly worthless to society ; that they involve an 
enormous and unjustifiable expenditure of money ; that they 
have a strong tendency to deterioration ; that they are mani- 
festly of demoralizing influence, and that they tend to the 
subversion of national prosperity and independence. The 
effect of my sermon was greatly increased by a reminiscence — 
whether impromptu or premeditated I cannot now say — with a 
reference to which I closed my discourse. At the burning of 
the theatre the dead, the dying, and suffering were laid upon 
the floor of the church in which I was speaking. Its walls had 
reverberated with the groans of the dying and the screams of 
the afflicted from the well-remembered theatrical catastrophe. 
The very floor occupied by the crowded audience had been 
stained with the blood of the unfortunate devotees of the 
bewitching amusement. I made such use as I could of these 
startling facts to dissuade my hearers from attending theatres. 
It was no proof of mv power as a speaker that facts so solemn 
and so pertinent to the occasion, brought suddenly to the 
attention of the hearers, produced a deep impression. Of the 
merits of the sermon I need not speak. In a few days after 
its delivery I was requested by a number of gentlemen, among 
whom were several prominent members of the Legislature, to 
furnish a copy of it for publication. It had been preached 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 217 

from not very copious notes, but I reduced it to writing, and a 
large edition of it was promptly printed and widely circulated, 
not a copy of which is now within my reach. 

The managers of the theatre resolved to retaliate on the 
parsons. A play was selected or prepared as a burlesque on 
the sermons which had been preached against theatrical enter- 
tainments. I had often expressed my pleasure that a pun 
could not be made on my name, but I had no expectation of 
having the practical advantage of it which I experienced on 
this occasion. In the notice of the retaliatory play the names of 
the preachers — Plumer (plumber), Smith, and Woodbridge, in 
their common acceptation — were ingeniously wrought, printed 
in large capitals, and posted all over the city, to the amuse- 
ment of many. My name, having no meaning in English, was 
omitted in the burlesque. Possibly I may attribute to the lack 
of meaning in my name what was due to its want of impor- 
tance. 

Many years have passed since the war on the theatre, and it 
may be quite natural to inquire whether time and observation 
have wrought any change in my views of theatrical amuse- 
ments. There were arguments and statements in my sermon 
which, if I were to deliver it now, I should deem it proper to 
modify ; but as to the injurious influence of theatrical enter- 
tainments my views have undergone no change. There is no 
evil in writing, reading, or acting plays, provided they are of 
good moral tendency ; but theatres, as they are commonly con- 
ducted, are of demoralizing influence. Early convinced on 
this point, I have never attended a theatrical exhibition. I am, 
therefore, entirely dependent on the testimony of others for my 
opinion on this subject. I know how liable men's minds are 
to be warped by their tastes, training, and associations. It 
would be easy to find witnesses of equal intelligence and can- 
dor on both sides of this question. I have, however, found 
the most satisfactory testimony on the subject where I least 
expected to obtain it. 

I was acquainted with the late Mrs. William F. Ritchie (pre- 
viously Mrs. Mowatt) — herself an actress of high character and 



218 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

■of no mean abilities. She informed me that when she was in 
England she spent some weeks in the family of McCready, the 
most celebrated tragedian of his age, and among the most 
gifted of any age. He had a large family of daughters — beau- 
tiful, cultivated, refined, and interesting. She stated, all un- 
conscious of the bearing of her testimony on the moral influ- 
ence of the theatre, that he would not allow his daughters to 
attend it. He permitted each one, as she attained a certain 
age, to go once to it, that she might have some knowledge of 
its mysteries ; but she must never go again. 

The testimony is conclusive. If any man understood the 
influence of the theatre, McCready did. He possessed emi- 
nent abilities, and had ample opportunities to learn all the 
secrets and tendencies of theatrical entertainments. His opin- 
ion was formed under no bias against theatres. He was in- 
debted to them for his wealth, reputation, and influence. His 
daughters derived their refinement and their rank in society 
from their father's histrionic art. He was the prince of the 
stage — admired, caressed, and honored wherever he appeared. 
Yet this eminent tragedian forbade his daughters to attend the 
theatre, even when he was the star actor. Why did he do it? 
Surely because he knew that it was no fit place for refined and 
modest ladies. There they are liable to hear jests and innu- 
endoes, and to see sights from which maiden eyes should be 
averted. The case is clear that McCready considered that the 
instruction and amusement afforded by the drama would not 
compensate for the evil influences of attendance on the thea- 
tre. If that was true of the attendance on the theatres where 
McCready was the presiding genius, how much more obviously 
must it be true of theatres designed to minister to the tastes 
and satisfy the demands of the vulgar and the vicious ? 



XLIV. 

RICHMOND COLLEGE. 

THE Virginia Baptist Education Society (after many years 
merged into the Education Board of the Baptist General 
Association of Virginia) was formed in the old Second Baptist 
church of this city at an anniversary meeting of the Association, 
June, 1830. It seems, from the excellent Life of Rev. James 
B. Taylor, by his son, Dr. George B. (pp. 88, 89), that Bro. Tay- 
lor retained a more minute recollection of the circumstances 
which led to the formation of the society than I had done. He 
states that as he and I were travelling from the Northern Neck 
to this city we discussed the means of educating our young 
ministers, and resolved to organize, if possible, a society for 
promoting the object. A meeting was held early Monday 
morning, before the General Association convened for business, 
to consider the subject. Speeches were made, and a committee 
was appointed to draft a constitution for a society, and in the 
afternoon another meeting was convened, at which the consti- 
tution was read and adopted, a large number of members was 
obtained, officers were chosen, and several hundreds of dollars 
were secured to aid in the education of young ministers. 

Various reasons were offered for the formation of the society. 
The importance of adopting means for the education of the 
rising ministry was conceded by all. The Columbian College, 
District of Columbia, opened its doors, free of cost for tuition, 
to all ministers of the gospel, but most of our young ministers 
were unprepared to enter its classes, and could not be fitted to 
do it without some special provision for their training. Besides, 
it was thought that arrangements could be made in Virginia for 
their preparatory instruction much cheaper than they could be 
made in Washington city. These arguments, however, were 
by no means satisfactory to some of the brethren. They feared 
that the enterprise would interfere with the interests of the Co- 



220 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

lumbian College, of which they were earnest friends. Many 
of the older brethren doubted the wisdom of the measure, if 
they did not directly oppose it. Rev. Robert Ryland, then 
recently graduated in the College, and quite alive to its inter- 
ests, and destined to be one of the foremost in promoting the 
objects of the society, took no part in its formation, and looked 
with distrust, if not with hostility, on its plans. Whether the 
measure was wise or unwise, it is now too late to consider. 

In a short time half a dozen or more students for the ministry 
were placed under charge of Rev. Edward Baptist, of Pow- 
hatan county. They were, no doubt, well instructed, for their 
teacher was a scholar, a fine preacher, and a most genial and 
pleasant companion. An event occurred in this school which 
may be properly mentioned. Among the students was a Bro. 
Allgood. He was a resident of Lunenburg county, the first 
person whom I baptized, and a most exemplary and promising 
young man. By some chance, but without fault on his part, 
he offended a rash and imperious young fellow, who resolved 
to chastise him. Preparing for the execution of his purpose, 
and watching for an opportunity to fulfill it, he proceeded to 
inflict stripes on the pious student, who bore the insult and out- 
rage with Christian patience and gentleness. The sympathy 
of the community was generally and strongly with the injured 
Allgood, and public sentiment fiercely condemned the des- 
perado by whom he was feloniously assaulted. He was in- 
dicted, but, owing to some defect in the law, or the failure to 
enforce it, he was not punished with the severity due to his 
crime. 

In the year 1832 the society purchased a farm about four 
miles from the city, just beyond Young's mill-pond, for the pur- 
pose of establishing a manual labor school. Rev. Robert Ry- 
land, pastor of the Baptist church in Lynchburg, was called to 
take charge of it, and accepted the call. He was, for a time, 
assisted in his work by Rev. Eli Ball, a brother whose scholar- 
ship was various rather than profound, but whose attainments 
were, doubtless, equal to the demands of his pupils. What 
he lacked in thoroughness of knowledge was fully supplied 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 221 

by the blandness of his manners and his fondness of teach- 
ing. 

At that time there was quite a mania in the country about 
manual labor schools. They sprang up all over the land. It 
was fondly hoped that young men, by well-directed labors, 
when not engaged in their studies, might earn their support, 
or a large portion of it. The most extravagant praises of the 
system appeared in the public papers. The scheme quickly 
and utterly failed under the management of the Virginia Baptist 
Education Society. Its failure might have been' easily foreseen. 
Some of the students were industrious, and others were lazy ; 
some had been trained to labor, and others had not ; some were 
strong and active, and others were delicate and feeble, and to 
require all to labor for the same remuneration was unequal and 
not adapted to encourage exertion. Preparations had to be 
made in one session for the crop of the next, and students were 
not inclined to labor for so distant and uncertain a benefit. 
Besides, the time of vacation was that which called for the most 
careful attention and the most earnest exertions. Farming and 
gardening, without a head to plan and labor at command, and 
the stimulus of self-interest to impel, and ceaseless attention, 
can never be profitable. After a few years' trial it was found 
that the desultory labor of students scarcely paid the unavoid- 
able expenses of cultivation. Manual labor schools, as did 
Morus multicaiilis a few years later, fell into universal neglect. 

If the labor department was not to be kept up, the farm near 
Young's pond was evidently not the place for the school. It 
was too far from the city, whence the school must draw its sup- 
plies, and whither the students must resort for public religious 
worship and to find congenial society. The necessity of re- 
moving the school nearer to the city was apparent to all. 

In the year 1835 the Education Society held its anniversary 
in the city of Richmond, and appointed a committee, consist- 
ing of Col. Thomas Hudgins (then wealthy, and a warm friend 
of the society), Rev. James B. Taylor, and myself, who made 
up in zeal for the cause what we lacked in cash, to select and 
purchase a site for the school nearer to the city. After due 



222 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

examination we contracted for "Columbia," the private resi- 
dence of the Haxall family, by far the most attractive residence 
in the neighborhood of Richmond — the present site of the Col- 
lege — for the sum of $10,500. This was a heavy burden for 
the society to assume, but by the liberality and exertions of its 
friends it was paid according to contract. 

For some years the school, called "The Baptist Seminary, 5> 
was continued at Columbia, under the supervision of President 
Ryland, with assistant teachers. It was prosperous, and many 
of our most valuable ministers received their education, wholly 
or in part, in its classes. It was soon felt, however, that the 
institution needed a charter. It held its property by an inse- 
cure tenure, and it could not, under the laws of the State, col- 
lect bequests. Several legacies were lost for want of legal au- 
thority to compel their payment. If a charter was obtained, it 
seemed desirable that it should have all the privileges usually 
granted to colleges, that it might have room to grow, if need 
be, into a university. There were conflicting opinions among 
the friends of the school about the propriety of obtaining for it 
a college charter. The subject was earnestly discussed in the 
Education Society. It was maintained that the school was not 
a college, and could not, for a long time to come, be made one, 
except in name. Rev. A, M. Poindexter, one of the most 
formidable debaters that I have known, distinguished himself 
by his opposition to the measure. He amused the audience by 
comparing the little school with a college charter to a small boy 
clothed with his grandfather's greatcoat. In spite, however, 
of argument and ridicule, the charter was asked and obtained 
of the Legislature, and the name Baptist Seminary was grad- 
ually supplanted by Richmond College. 

In the year 1851 a vigorous effort was made to raise $100,000 
for the endowment of the College. Rev. A. M. Poindexter 
was appointed an agent to carry into effect the scheme. A 
better selection for the work could not have been made. The 
proposed sum was secured in money or in bonds deemed equiv- 
alent to money. The loss of this endowment, and the damage 
to the college buildings and library, the changes and outrages 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 223 

caused by the war, and the semi-centennial efforts for its re- 
endowment, are recent events, which may be left for record 
among the recollections of some juvenile observer sixty or 
seventy years hence. 



XLV. 

POPULAR DELUSIONS. 

ABOUT forty years ago, before the completion of the rail- 
road from this city to Aquia creek, I was riding in a 
crowded stage-coach on the road from Fredericksburg to the 
steamboat landing on the Potomac. Most of the passengers 
were en route to the city of Baltimore to attend a Morus mul- 
ticatclis convention. Morus multicaulis was the incessant 
theme of conversation in the coach. I had seen in the papers 
the long, outlandish name — meaning a mulberry of many 
stalks — but had taken no notice of it. Now I learned that it 
was an exotic, introduced into the country from the East — 
perhaps from China — easily propagated, of rapid growth, and 
admirably suited to the nourishment of the silk-worm. It was 
proposed to commence the culture and manufacture of silk in 
the country. The quick and luxuriant growth of the Morus 
multicaulis, it was supposed, would greatly facilitate the intro- 
duction and success of the silk culture. The most extravagant 
anticipations were cherished by the sanguine members of the 
approaching convention of the wealth and prosperity with 
which the new enterprise would fill the country. 

All the passengers were not equally hopeful of the profits of 
the Morus multicaulis speculation. The south of Europe and 
other Eastern countries had great advantages for the culture 
and manufacture of silk. The climates were favorable for the 
maturity and propagation of the silk-worm. Mulberry groves 
were numerous and flourishing, labor was cheap, capital was 
abundant and seeking investment at a small percentage, the 
people had the experience and accumulated skill of centuries in 
the manufacture of silks, the cost of their transportation to the 
commercial countries was very light, and it seemed improbable 
that Americans could successfully compete with the nations of 
the Old World in their long-cherished branch of business. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 225 

These suggestions seemed to the ardent Morns multicaulisites 
as the disturbed and gloomy dreams of old fogies — a vulgar 
phrase then just coming into use. To all these arguments the 
reply was easy. Boys and girls unfit for other service could 
feed the silk-worms, and ladies could wind the silk from the 
cocoon and weave it into beautiful fabrics. Employment, re- 
finement, and wealth were results surely promised to flow from 
the culture of the prolific Eastern mulberry. For my own 
part, I had never before received a tithe of the instruction on 
the art of silk-making that I gained on that memorable journey. 
The Baltimore Convention was not the only one held in the 
interest of the Morns multicaulis culture. Conventions were 
held in various places, attended numerously by men of intelli- 
gence, capital, and enterprise, to awaken and diffuse an interest 
in an employment that was expected to enrich all classes of 
society and every part of our country, especially our Southern 
country. The newspapers were filled with articles on the sub- 
ject, setting forth in glowing terms the immense advantages of 
the proposed culture. The public was thoroughly aroused on 
the subject. All classes of people entered into the speculation. 
Women as well as men, and sober-minded farmers as well as 
enthusiastic adventurers, went into the cultivation of the Morns. 
Gardens as well as fields, and the choice spots on many farms, 
were planted in the gold-producing stalk. Travel where one 
might, he would see among the most carefully cultivated places 
the Morus multicaulis patches. As the plants were propagated 
from the buds, they were sold at the most fabulous prices. It 
was not uncommon for small lots — mere squares in gardens 
well set with the luxuriant plants — to be sold for hundreds, or 
even thousands, of dollars. A single stalk judiciously used 
might make a fortune. It was no uncommon thing for bold 
speculators to pay, or at least promise to pay, $30,000 or 
$40,000 for a small field covered with the precious growth. To 
intensify the excitement, in a short time specimens of domestic 
silk began to be exhibited as decisive proof that the Mortcs 
multicaulis could nourish the silk-worm, and that American 
industry and enterprise could manufacture its cocoons into 



226 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

strong silk cloth, bearing about the same relation to the beau- 
tiful silk fabrics of the Old World as did our domestic cotton 
cloths at that time sustain to the tasteful imported calicoes. 

The increase of the Morus multicaulis exceeded all compu- 
tation. The country was covered with it. At the rate at which 
it increased it would have taken but few years to fill the globe 
with it. New Jersey, perhaps, took the lead in the speculation, 
but she was closely followed by Pennsylvania, Delaware, Mary- 
land, Virginia, and I know not how many States farther south. 

Fortunately for the world, intense excitements do not last 
long. Wild speculations must soon run their course. The 
Morus multicaulis mania went through all its stages in two or 
three years. At first the buyers greatly exceeded the sellers 
in number, but in a short time the proportion between them 
was entirely changed. In the early summer I was in company 
with an intelligent gentleman from New Jersey. He informed 
me that the plant was abundant in that State, and that the grow- 
ers of it were relying on Virginia for a market. It was obvious 
that the bubble was about to burst. I knew that the producers 
of it in Virginia were expecting to sell large quantities of it to 
the Jersey people. 

About this time I travelled into some of the upper counties 
of the State, where the Morus had been planted on a grand 
scale. I resolved to indulge in a little pleasantry at the expense 
of the now somewhat dispirited speculators. I expressed my 
wish to purchase the plant. I was asked how much of the 
article I desired to obtain. I replied gravely that I would buy 
a very large quantity if I could obtain it on reasonable terms. 
It was amusing to see how the faces of the sellers brightened 
at the prospect of turning their mulberry plants into gold. 
They were more anxious to learn what I was willing to give 
for the trees than they were to state their prices. After ex- 
citing their expectation to the highest point, I offered them ten 
cents a hundred for their best plants. They saw at once that 
I was hoaxing them. The most amusing part of the story is 
that if they had accepted my offer I should have been seriously- 
damaged, -if not pecuniarily ruined. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 227 

Before autumn the bubble burst. Suddenly, completely, and 
permanently the golden dream ended. Scarcely any one gained 
by the speculation. Some who sold their Morus multicaulis 
crops for thousands of dollars invested their gains in larger 
fields of the mulberry plant and in costly cocooneries. For 
some years the Morus groves might be seen standing on almost 
every farm, but by degrees, with great reluctance and at con- 
siderable cost, they were grubbed up and the grounds used 
for more profitable products. Now a Morus multicaulis tree is 
rarely seen. The only thing that can be fairly said in favor of 
the speculation is that it was a delusion and not a fraud. 

About the time of the Morus multicaulis excitement there 
was another popular delusion — less extensive, but not less wild 
and groundless. It was the gold mania. A gold mine was 
discovered, I think, in the county of Buckingham. It prom- 
ised to be of great value. A distinguished mineralogist — I 
think Professor Silliman, of Yale College, Connecticut — was 
employed to examine the mine. He reported that it was very 
rich. In my trip with the persons en route to the Baltimore 
convention, referred to above, I heard an intelligent stranger,, 
that I supposed to be Professor Silliman, say that he had ex- 
amined the mine, and believed it to be the richest, or one of 
the richest, mines in the world. It was afterwards suspected 
that the mineralogist was guided in his examination by. persons 
who knew where the deposits of gold might be found in the 
greatest abundance. Be that as it may, his scientific report 
produced a wild excitement. A mining company was formed 
of limited stock, in which the shares doubled and quadrupled 
in value in a few days. To increase the excitement, specimens 
of the precious metal were passed from hand to hand as earn- 
ests of the splendid fortunes within easy reach. 

The strangest part of the story is that cautious, far-seeing 
men, who had laughed at the Morus multicaulis deception,, 
were perfectly frantic with the gold speculation. They had 
not believed in the nursing of silk-worms, but gold was some- 
thing they could see and handle, and the judgment of the 
renowned scientist might be safely trusted. They purchased 



228 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

gold-mining stock at exorbitant prices, and urged their friends 
not to neglect the means of securing wealth. The most intense 
excitement prevailed throughout the State, and especially in 
Richmond. How could it be otherwise? Everybody knew 
the preciousness of gold, and science combined with commer- 
cial shrewdness to give assurance that it could be obtained in 
great abundance by a small outlay. Many bought stock, and 
all were looking forward hopefully to the golden harvest. 

The gold bubble did not last so long as the silk bubble. The 
mining was not profitable. There was gold, precious gold, in 
the mine, but it required two dollars' worth of labor to obtain 
one dollar's worth of gold. In a few months the grand scheme 
collapsed, and the stock, which at orie time could scarcely be 
obtained for love or money, would hardly have been accepted 
as a present. Some of the speculators might have been profited 
by the scheme, but its only benefit coming within my knowl- 
edge was the great amusement afforded by the disappointment 
of the sharp, careful, money-loving traders who had escaped 
so many snares and had so constantly reproved their neigh- 
bors for their incautious and reckless speculations to be caught 
in the most unpromising of all the traps. 



XLVL 

THE DIVISION OF THE TRIENNIAL CONVEN- 
TION 

AT the first Triennial Convention which I attended at the 
city of New York, in 1832, the elements of discord had 
begun to appear. Abolitionism was then in its incipiency. In 
the next meeting of the Convention, held in the city of Rich- 
mond, owing to its Southern location, and the decided prepon- 
derance of Southern influence, it did not show itself, though 
several leading abolitionists were present. At the Convention 
in Baltimore, in 1841, the subject of slavery began to be a dis- 
turbing element in the deliberations of the body. Conciliatory 
resolutions on the subject were adopted by an overwhelming 
majority. They did not extinguish, but merely repressed for a 
time, the smouldering fires. 

When the Convention met in Philadelphia, in 1844, the abo- 
lition party had much increased in numbers and strength. It 
was evident that an earnest conflict on the subject of slavery 
could not be avoided. The views of brethren were widely and 
irreconcilably variant concerning it. At the North many be- 
lieved it to be ''the sum of all villainies," the sin of all sins y 
and the one evil against which they should direct their heaviest 
moral batteries. Slaveholders they considered utterly unfit 
for the kingdom of heaven, and their contributions to the cause 
of missions a blight and a curse. These extreme views, how- 
ever, were not in the ascendancy among Northern brethren. 
Generally, they held that slavery was an evil, a misfortune, to 
be deplored, but that slaveholders of the South, under their 
circumstances, might or might not sin in owning slaves. Their 
views amounted to this : that bad slaveholders were not worthy 
of Christian fellowship, but. that good slaveholders were. I 
remember distinctly that Dr. Wayland said : " I believe slavery 



230 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

to be a sin, but consider many of the Southern slaveholders to 
be as free from the guilt of slavery as I am." 

There were conflicting views on this subject among Southern 
as well as among Northern Baptists. None believed that slavery 
per se was sinful. All were of opinion that the interference of 
Northern people with Southern slavery was uncalled for, un- 
wise, and injurious both to masters and slaves. Many looked 
on slavery as a great blessing, to be defended and perpetuated 
at all hazards. Others viewed it as a misfortune to be endured 
and made the best of, under the circumstances in which we 
were placed, and for the existence of which we were in nowise 
responsible. Not one in a thousand believed that slavery could 
be abolished without serious injury to both masters and slaves, 
with few or no compensating advantages to either party. 

The Convention, composed of these heterogeneous elements, 
commenced its session with a reasonable prospect of discord 
and trouble. It was deemed necessary that Dr. Wm. B. John- 
son, of South Carolina, a minister of fine attainments and an 
excellent presiding officer, who had acceptably served the Con- 
vention several sessions, should, as a peace-offering, decline a 
re-election. The abolitionists nominated Dr. B. T. Welch, of 
Albany, N. Y., and the conservatives Dr. F. Wayland, of 
Providence, R. I., for the presidency. Dr. Wayland was 
elected. He was an anti-slavery man, but eminently liberal in 
his views, conservative in his spirit, and conciliatory in his 
manners. He was as much opposed as any Southern man to 
the introduction of the subject of slavery into the Convention, 
or permitting it to interfere with the co-operation of Baptists, 
North and South, in the work of missions. The business of 
the Convention was conducted without serious trouble from the 
abolitionists. The body, being composed of members repre- 
senting a considerable pecuniary contribution, was made up 
largely of conservative and prudent men. 

The American Baptist Home Mission Society, differing little 
from a mass-meeting, was, from its very origin, the battle-field 
of the abolitionists and slaveholders. In this society occurred 
the memorable discussion in which the sentence, "Brother 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 231 

Jeter has the floor !" acquired such notoriety. The facts, as I 
remember them, are these : Deacon Heman Lincoln, of Bos- 
ton, was in the chair. He was a noble layman, a gentleman of 
wealth, refined manners, high social position, a good parlia- 
mentarian, trained in the Massachusetts Senate, of which he 
had been a member. He was neither a slaveholder nor an ab- 
olitionist, but he valued men according to their intellectual and 
moral worth. The subject of slavery was under discussion — in 
what aspect I do not now remember — and several speeches had 
been made on it. I rose to speak, and the president accorded 
to me. the floor. Instantly there was a vociferous demand that 
another should have it. He had risen several times, it was 
said, and failed to gain the eye of the speaker. It was insisted 
that his repeated attempts to gain the floor fairly entitled him 
to it. To all the demands and arguments the inflexible Deacon 
persistently cried : ' ' Brother Jeter has the floor ! " It is strange 
that persons having the slightest knowledge of parliamentary 
usage should have demanded the floor for the brother on that 
plea. If he had risen fifty times and failed to obtain the recog- 
nition of the presiding officer he would have had no ground for 
the claim. His frequent failures to obtain it might have been a 
plea for yielding it to him in courtesy, but they did not consti- 
tute the shadow of a claim to it as a matter of right. The firm- 
ness of the president prevailed. 

After standing for half an hour, as I suppose, through a 
tumult unparalleled in my experience in deliberative bodies, the 
floor was reluctantly yielded to me. Under ordinary circum- 
stances I should have been embarrassed and unable to proceed 
in the discussion ; but several days of intense excitement had 
brought me to a point at which I could not be confused. I 
commenced my speech with deliberation, and continued it to 
the end with freedom and calmness. I could not repeat my 
arguments if I would, and I need not if I could. They were 
entirely satisfactory to those agreeing with me in opinion, and 
were probably not noticed by those who dissented from it. In 
truth, the excitement, though it was favorable to fervent speak- 
ing, was entirely adverse to candid hearing. 



232 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

The meetings closed with no favorable indications of the 
future co-operation of the Baptists, North and South, in mis- 
sions, home or foreign. Resolutions shortly afterwards adopted 
by the Alabama Baptist State Convention, or its Board (I do 
not recollect which), precipitated the division. The resolu- 
tions demanded of the Foreign Mission Board, in Boston, an 
explicit answer to the question whether a slaveholder would 
be appointed a missionary. The answer was promptly re- 
turned that he would not be. This decision terminated all 
hope of union between the Baptists of the two sections in mis- 
sionary work. The Boston Board had been the most conserva- 
tive of all our boards. It had been the very anchor of the 
Convention. This decision filled the brethren of the South with 
amazement and sorrow. It was not that slaveholders, under 
some circumstances, on account of prejudices against them, 
would not be appointed missionaries, but that, because of their 
relation to slavery, they could not be appointed. Slaveholding 
among the American Indians presented no barrier to usefulness; 
but slaveholders, even among them, could not be employed as 
missionaries. Further co-operation was impossible. It reduced 
the Southern Baptists to the condition of mere burden-bearers. 
They might contribute to the funds of the Convention — to this 
many of the abolitionists were opposed — but owning slaves, 
under whatever circumstances, precluded ministers from serv- 
ing as missionaries. A meeting was immediately held by the 
brethren in Richmond, the action of the Board carefully con- 
sidered, and a convention invited to assemble in Augusta, Ga. , 
to decide what, under this new aspect of affairs, should be done. 

Meanwhile, a called meeting of the General Board of the 
Triennial Convention was held in Providence, R. I. , to confer 
on the proper action of the body in the exigency. Rev. James 
B. Taylor and myself, at the request of the brethren here, at- 
tended the meeting. We were most cordially and pleasantly 
entertained in the family of Dr. Wayland. I never saw so 
much of him as on this occasion, and I was deeply impressed 
by his large-hearted liberality and his sound wisdom. After 
free and full consultation with the brethren, especially Dr. Way- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 233 

land, a separation of the Baptists, North and South, was deemed 
best for all parties. Division was inevitable. If the Baptists of 
the South did not withdraw, it was foreseen that the abolition- 
ists and conservatives of the North would be rent asunder in 
their churches, associations, and mission societies. Much as a 
sectional division was to be deplored, it was deemed far less in-, 
jurious to our cause than a separation on the principle styled 
by the Presbyterians ' ' elective affinity, ' ' and on which they 
had then recently divided. Taylor and myself returned to the 
South with the assurance of the wisest and most conservative 
of the Northern brethren that the formation of a Southern 
convention would meet their approbation and secure their 
earnest prayers for its success. 



XLVIL 

THE FORMATION OF THE SOUTHERN BAP- 
TIST CONVENTION 

THE request for a convention to meet in the city of Au- 
gusta, Ga., in May, 1845, received a general and favorable 
response. A large delegation, amounting to about forty, went 
from Virginia and Maryland to the meeting. The journey was 
one of marked interest. It was performed by rail to Wilming- 
ton, North Carolina, and thence by steamer down the Cape 
Fear river, and along the Atlantic coast to Charleston, South 
Carolina. In our trip down the river all were cheerful, bright, 
and sociable, but we had scarcely reached the ocean before we 
were in a dreadful storm. One after another the passengers 
were seized with that most unpleasant disease, sea-sickness, 
and compelled to cast their dinners into the ocean, and retire 
to their berths or stretch themselves on settees in the saloon. 
At times the gunwale of the boat was lined with sufferers seek- 
ing relief by emptying their stomachs. Rev. D. Witt — after- 
wards Dr. Witt — wittily said to the captain : ' ' You may put 
out the fifes ; we can carry on the boat by heaving." In the 
evening the table, long and crowded at dinner, was reduced to 
a few plates, and these were not in demand. Having recently 
passed safely along the coast in very tempestuous weather, I 
was not alarmed at the storm, and amused myself with the suf- 
ferings and fears of others, which I believed to be temporary, 
and, indeed, medicinal and disciplinary. About night, how- 
ever, the storm increasing, I became very sick, to the no little 
amusement of my fellow-passengers who had been annoyed by 
my jests. Unable to find a lodging in the saloon, I was forced 
to retreat to the cabin. As I reached the foot of the gangway, 
overwhelmed with sickness, I cast myself on the nearest mat- 
tress. Fortunately for me it was midships, where the motion 



• THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 235 

was slightest, and a free air was circulating. I was immediately 
relieved, and, falling asleep, did not awake until the storm was 
over, the sun was shining, and the boat was in the direct course 
to Charleston. I learned, however, that tlje tempest became 
exceedingly heavy, the boat was forced to scud before the 
wind, and very serious fears of a disastrous termination of the 
voyage were entertained by the inexperienced landlubbers. 

The destruction of that living cargo would have been a great 
calamity to the Baptists of Virginia. Many of their wisest, 
most active, and most influential ministers and laymen were on 
board, and their loss would have been, for a time at least, irre- 
parable. When the peril had passed this thought forced itself 
on our minds : If we had perished our fate would have been 
deemed decisive proof that slavery was wrong, and that God 
visited its defenders with a just and signal judgment. A thou- 
sand pulpits would have proclaimed the instructive lessons of 
the fearful providence. The reasoning would have been quite 
as logical as that of the Pharisees who inferred from the doom 
of the eighteen who were slain by the falling of the tower of 
Siloam, and of the unfortunate Galileans whose blood was 
mingled with the sacrifices of the temple, that they were sin- 
ners above all men because they suffered such things. There 
has been much reasoning of that kind in these latter days, which 
I forbear to mention. 

A large and representative convention, from the South and 
Southwest, met in Augusta at the appointed time. There was 
no difference of opinion among the delegates as to the course 
to be pursued. The thought of remaining in connection with 
the Triennial Convention, except on terms of perfect equality 
with the non-slaveholding portion of it, was not entertained by 
a Southern Baptist for a moment. Dr. William B. Johnson, of 
South Carolina, was chosen president of the Convention. He 
was a representative Southerner — intelligent, elegant in man- 
ners, and faultless in taste. He was more careful to avoid the 
ellipsis in speaking than any person I have ever known. In 
conversation, in public discourses, and in presiding, he rarely 
omitted a word necessary for filling out his sentences. This 



236 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

peculiarity made his addresses tedious, but gave them a stately 
and formal appearance. 

Of the formation of the Southern Baptist Convention little 
need be said. A constitution, prepared by Dr. Johnson, was 
referred to a large committee, of which Dr. Fuller, of Baltimore, 
was chairman, reported with few amendments, and with slight 
discussion was unanimously adopted. All questions pertain- 
ing to the boards and the plans of the Convention were decided 
promptly and with great unanimity. 

This Convention, on the whole, was the most remarkable 
body of Southern Baptists which I have seen. In numbers, 
intelligence, and earnest devotion to the cause of Christ, it 
would have been distinguished in any age and in any country. 
Many of its members were endowed with rare abilities. Dr. 
Johnson, for his sound wisdom, dignified appearance, and pol- 
ished manners ; Dr. Fuller, for his burning eloquence ; Dr. 
Dagg, for his logical acumen and thorough theological knowl- 
edge ; Dr. Mallory, for his fervent spirit and impassioned ora- 
tory ; Dr. Taylor, for his gentleness, urbanity, and discretion ; 
the elder Dr. Brandy, for his commanding appearance and 
noble bearing ; and many others, for their various gifts and 
accomplishments, were worthy of admiration and esteem. Nor 
should the sound sense and practical wisdom of the Cranes, A. 
Thomas, the Hons. Thomas Stocks and A. Lumpkin, noble 
laymen, be overlooked in forming a judgment of the character 
of the body. 

Thirty-four years have passed since this memorable meeting, 
and with them have departed most of the prominent actors in 
it. A few that took part in the proceedings are still lingering 
on the shore of time, and many who were then young and vig- 
orous have become old and infirm. The Convention still lives. 
It has passed, like those who formed it, through many tribula- 
tions. By the death and return of its missionaries, by war at 
home and abroad, and by the great pecuniary distress of the 
South, its plans have been much thwarted and its means of 
usefulness greatly cramped. Its success in the home and 
foreign fields has been sufficient to call forth the gratitude and 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 237 

inspire the hopes of its friends, but not great enough to en- 
courage their boasting or their self-confidence. Their contri- 
butions, labors, and sacrifices in the cause of missions have not 
been commensurate with their number, resources, and obliga- 
tions to Christ. 

At the close of the Convention the Virginia and Maryland, 
delegates had a pleasant return passage. One incident I may 
mention. The brethren in Charleston made a generous ar- 
rangement for the entertainment of the delegates at the Charles- 
ton Hotel on their homeward passage. Deacon James C. Crane 
declined accepting the kindness of the brethren. It was not, 
he said, hospitality. A prosperous merchant might well afford 
to pay his own fare ; but to ministers with small salaries and 
short purses the arrangement was exceedingly convenient and 
pleasant, and called forth their expression of hearty thanks. 
Difference of opinion led, as usual, to discussion, in which 
Brother Witt was pitted against Deacon Crane. Witt re- 
minded him that, in former times, when the delegates to the 
General Association came to Richmond by private convey- 
ances, the brethren there made arrangements to keep the 
horses of the visitors at livery stables. It resembled the hos- 
pitality of the Charleston brethren. "That," said Crane, 
"was not hospitality." "Yes," said Witt, "it was horse- 
pitality." The wit in the modification of the word turned the 
laugh against Crane ; and a laugh in social debate is usually 
better than argument. 



XLVIII. 

A GREAT REVIVAL. 

THE year 1842 was distinguished by a religious revival in 
the' city of Richmond of unusual power, extent, and in- 
terest. It commenced in the First Presbyterian church, under 
the ministry of Rev. William S. Plumer, D. D. About the first 
of March I visited Portsmouth, Va., where I met Rev. Israel 
Robords. He was a Northern evangelist, who had spent the 
preceding winter in the South, partly to recruit his health and 
partly to follow his vocation. Hearing him preach once or 
twice, I was pleased with his preaching, and invited him to 
accompany me to Richmond and aid me in a protracted meet- 
ing. He was in some respects among the most remarkable 
preachers whom I have heard. He was probably forty-five 
years old, tall, lean, of an unhealthy complexion, and rather 
ill-favored. He gained nothing from his personal appearance. 
His education was limited, but he had a sharp intellect, and 
was well informed, especially on religious subjects. He was 
not an orator, but his thoughts were quite original, and were 
expressed in a clear, nervous style, sometimes quite ornate, 
and even sublime. His discourses derived little advantage 
either from his voice or his gestures. He had most extra- 
ordinary power in dealing with the consciences of men. He 
seemed to have an almost perfect knowledge of the human 
heart, and to be able to lay bear its motives, its propensities, 
and its self-deceptions. People were afraid to hear him, lest 
he should expose their secret wickedness. He was terrible in 
his denunciations of all kinds of vice. 

Elder Robords commenced his labors before a small congre- 
gation in the lecture-room of the First Baptist church. Scarcely 
any preacher was ever heard with such varying views and feel- 
ings. Some were pleased, others were disgusted, and many 
were amused, and not a few were in doubt as to the usefulness 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 239- 

of his eccentric sermons ; but all wished to hear him again. 
His congregations rapidly increased until the spacious audience- 
room of the church was crowded. His preaching gave great 
offense to many, but while he displeased some classes of his 
hearers he conciliated others. Against his caustic delineations 
of vice he set over many handsome compliments to the better 
portions of society. The effects of his ministry were various 
and surprising. Under his fierce denunciations of sin many 
writhed and went away to ridicule and blaspheme. In the art 
of reproving I have never known him excelled. I well remem- 
ber one notable instance of his employing this art. He was 
preaching in the First church to a crowded audience, and was 
making pretty severe remarks against some vice or error, 
when three or four men in the gallery near the pulpit took 
offense and resolved to show their indignation. They rose 
from their seats, and walking slowly towards the point of 
egress from the gallery, stamped loudly as they went. All 
eyes were drawn towards them. The preacher stopped, and 
looking calmly at the retreating auditors, said with great com- 
posure and distinctness, ' ' Being convicted by their own con- 
science, they went out one by one," the last word falling on 
the ears of the offended critics as they escaped from the room. 
The speaker resumed his discourse as if nothing had occurred. 
I have never seen a Southern audience in a religious meeting 
come so near to indulging in open applause as on that occasion.. 
By his searching appeals not a few were awakened, melted 
into tears, and brought to sincere repentance. The members 
of the church were thoroughly aroused to a sense of their 
obligations, and stimulated to make earnest efforts for the sal- 
vation of sinners. It was really amusing to see how some of 
the brethren were at first disgusted, then offended, and after- 
wards conciliated and brought into harmony and co-operation 
with the evangelist. 

Elder Robords continued his labors in the city, preaching 
twice a day, and attending an inquiry meeting in the afternoon, 
for about three weeks in the First and Second Baptist churches, 
and then left to fill an engagement in Baltimore. The. meet- 



240 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

ings were kept up with unabated or even increasing interest in 
the First, Second, and Third — then the only white Baptist 
churches in the city. The pastors, Magoon, Taylor, and myself, 
were aided by such ministers as we could secure from the 
country — among whom were Elder Jesse Witt, of Powhatan 
county, Elder Joseph Walker, of Hampton, and Elder Thomas 
W. Sydnor, of Nottoway. 

After some weeks Elder Robords returned to the city and 
resumed his labors. He did not, however, regain his power. 
He preached most of the time in the Second and Third (now 
Grace-street) churches, and had large congregations, but it 
was questionable whether his second visit was of advantage to 
the cause. In a short while he left, carrying with him the con- 
fidence, love, and best wishes of many for his welfare, and the 
disapprobation, if not, indeed, the downright hatred, of not a 
few. 

The meetings, with more or less frequency, were continued 
in the churches until the middle of the summer. Nearly 400 
members were added to the white Baptist churches. Of this 
number about 170 were admitted into the First Baptist church, 
many of whom were heads of families, men of business and in- 
fluence, who added greatly to its strength and efficiency. What 
was true of the First was doubtless true of the other Baptist 
churches. The First African church, under the ministry of 
Dr. Ryland, received large accessions, probably equalling in 
number those added to the white churches. 

The revival was by no means limited to the Baptist churches. 
Commencing in the First Presbyterian church, it spread into 
all the evangelical churches of the city. I have no means of 
estimating the number of converts in the city, but it could 
hardly have been less than 1,500 in a population of possibly 
30,000. Two or three things are worthy of special notice. An 
unusually large number _of the converts were immersed. Dr. 
Waller, a Methodist pastor, baptized seventeen candidates at 
one time in the James river, just below Haxall's mill, and he 
administered the ordinance with due solemnity, and some 
awkwardness, arising from inexperience. A Unitarian- Univer- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 241 

salist church then in the city held what Mr. Robords said he 
had never heard of before since he ' ' had breath and being ' ' — 
a protracted meeting, and immersed a portion at least of their 
proselytes in the James river. On the whole, I have never 
seen in the city of Richmond a revival which, in its extent and 
results, equalled that of 1842. 

Near the close of special religious services there came to my 
study a stranger, probably thirty years old, of the ordinary 
size, of ruddy complexion, of genteel appearance, and with a 
Scotch brogue. He had just crossed the Atlantic in a sailing 
vessel, and reached our port. He, after a brief introduction, 
gave this account of himself. He was a Presbyterian minister, 
educated and ordained in Scotland. He settled in the city of 
Lincoln, England, not far from the Scottish border, as pastor 
of an Independent church. Here he was succeeding pleas- 
antly until an event occurred to disturb his equanimity. The 
Scotch Presbyterians baptize infants only when one or the other 
of their parents is a church member. The English Indepen- 
dents, on the other hand, baptize infants regardless of the 
moral character or relations of their parents. When infants 
of parents not members of a church were brought to him for 
baptism he hesitated to administer the right, but being informed 
that custom and church authority required it, he performed 
the service with painful doubts of its propriety. At length a 
child of parents notoriously depraved was presented to him for 
baptism. His conscience revolted at the act, and he resolved 
not to perform it. Being assured that the refusal would involve 
him in ecclesiastical troubles, he resigned his charge and made 
arrangements to emigrate to America. He secured the most 
satisfactory testimonials of his piety and good standing as a 
minister, several of which were from persons whose fame was 
well known in this country, and finding a ship about to sail for 
Virginia, he took passage on it and safely reached our shore. 

An important change took place in his views on his voyage. 
Having his Greek Testament and Lexicon, and other helps for 
learning the will of God, he determined to settle in his mind 
the question whether baptism should be limited to the infants 



\ 

242 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

of church members or extended to all infants. Having left his 
native land, and passed beyond all ecclesiastical control, he 
was at liberty to study the subject with the simple desire to 
arrive at the knowledge of the truth. He soon became con- 
vinced that there was precisely as much scriptural authority for 
the baptism of the infants of the ungodly as for those of church 
members. In short, that there was no warrant from scriptural 
precept, example, or fair inference for the baptism of either 
class of infants. Rejecting infant baptism, he had no difficulty 
in accepting immersion as the true baptism. His Greek Testa- 
ment and Lexicon furnished him ample testimony on that 
point. When he reached the waters of Virginia he was con- 
firmed in distinctive Baptist principles. At the earliest oppor- 
tunity he appeared before the First Baptist church as an 
applicant for baptism and membership. His experience and 
testimonials were entirely satisfactory, and he was baptized, 
received into the church, and at the first convenient oppor- 
tunity he publicly stated, in a convincing and impressive man- 
ner, his reasons for changing his ecclesiastical relations. He 
was soon licensed to preach, and entered on a bright career of 
usefulness, which unfortunately proved to be short. 

This man was Rev. Duncan R. Campbell, D. D., the late 
lamented president of Georgetown College, Kentucky. 



XLIX. 

A DAY WITH THE UNITED STATES SENATE. 

SOME time during the administration of Van Buren I spent 
a day in the United States Senate chamber. The Senate 
was at that time honored by many members distinguished' for 
their talents and their influence — men of national, not to say of 
world-wide reputation. In the first rank were Webster, Cal- 
houn, and Clay ; in the second rank, and not far below the 
first, were Benton, Rives, and Preston ; and in the third class 
were many names which would have done honor to any 
legislative body, among whom may be mentioned Wright 
of New York, and Clay of Alabama. It was a time of great 
political excitement. The Whigs and the Democrats were 
battling over the sub-treasury — an apple of discord which 
had been bequeathed to the country by the Jackson adminis- 
tration. 

Perhaps no person ever visited the Senate chamber under 
circumstances more favorable for hearing a debate in which all 
the great senators gave an exhibition of their dialectic and ora- 
torical powers than I did on that occasion. The subject under 
discussion was some resolution relating to the sub-treasury — a 
subject which then awakened intense and universal interests 
There were no set speeches and no tedious arguments, but the 
senators indulged in an off-hand, free, and courteous debate. 
All the prominent senators participated in the discussion in 
speeches varying from ten to thirty minutes in length. Their 
remarks were fresh, sharp, and playful, but within the strict 
bounds of courtesy. My impressions of the different speak- 
ers, though imperfectly remembered, may interest some per- 
sons. 

Henry Clay was past the vigor of life, tall, lean, and ill- 
favored. When I was quite young I was told that I bore a 



244 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

strong resemblance to him. The opinion could not have been 
imaginary, for when I travelled in Kentucky, shortly after the 
late war, I was frequently reminded of my likeness of the illus- 
trious senator — a likeness not in genius and oratory, but in 
person — a compliment which I accepted only with limitation, 
as I could not suppose that I was as ugly as the renowned 
civilian. He was among the first, if he was not the first, to 
speak on this occasion. His address was free, vivacious, 
earnest, and graceful. He displayed great flexibility of voice 
and versatility of manner. There had been some damaging 
defalcations in the sub-treasury department, and the orator, 
elevating his voice to a lofty pitch, cried: "Stop the leaks! 
stop the leaks ! " at the same time thumping with his hand as 
if he were driving in the spigot. The effect was electrical. 
The Whigs smiled and the Democrats winced. 

John C. Calhoun, in height, form, and size, did not differ 
widely from his Kentucky rival. The South Carolinian was 
the more striking in appearance. His hair, then becoming 
silvery, stood erect, as if he had just seen a ghost. His speech 
was clear, terse, and pointed. I have never heard a speaker 
who so deeply impressed me with his intense earnestness. Mr. 
Clay spoke as if he believed all that he said, and desired the 
Senate to adopt his views, but would not be greatly troubled if 
they dissented from them. Mr. Calhoun spoke as if he thought 
the welfare of the country, if not the perpetuity of the govern- 
ment, depended on the adoption of his opinions in every jot 
and tittle. His manner must have been very impressive in 
the discussion of themes of great national moment, but on the 
comparatively trivial matter under consideration his earnestness 
seemed to be overstrained. 

Daniel Webster differed widely in form from his illustrious 
compeers. He was low in stature, thickly set, strongly built, 
with a wide, high, massive forehead — strongly resembling the 
bust of the orator Cicero which I saw in the city of Rome. I 
heard Mr. Webster, not only on this occasion, but some years 
later, when he delivered his celebrated speech, under the 
October sun, from the southern portico of the Virginia capi- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 245 

tol, to an immense Whig convention. His speeches were dis- 
tinguished for clearness of conception, purity of style, and 
force of argument, rather than for grace or impressiveness of 
delivery. He was a great statesman, but not an orator. 
His speeches were valuable, not so much for the manner of 
their delivery as for their well-considered and far-reaching 
thought. 

Thomas H. Benton made a short speech. I afterwards heard 
him address a large audience in St. Louis on some matter 
pertaining to the commercial welfare of the city. He was a 
dull, heavy, uninteresting speaker — at least, so it seemed to 
me when I heard him. His remarks were sensible and well 
expressed, but derived no force from his voice, spirit, or ges- 
tures. That he was a laborious student, well informed in the 
history and politics of the country, and formidable in debate, I 
do not doubt, but his speeches appeared to better advantage 
in print than in the Senate chamber or from the rostrum. 

William C. Rives was a man of ordinary size, good features, 
bearing the unmistakable marks of culture and refinement. 
On the occasion referred to he made the longest, and certainly 
one of the most sensible and statesmanlike, of all the speeches. 
While he could hardly be called an orator, his manner of 
speaking was good, and his thoughts were weighty and 
forcibly expressed. I afterwards heard him deliver a much 
more elaborate speech in the Confederate Congress. Whether 
through age he had lost the buoyancy of manhood, or failed 
from some other cause to catch the inspiration of his theme, I 
cannot say, but he did not seem to me to have the readiness, 
piquancy, and logic that distinguished his extempore senatorial 
address. 

William C. Preston, of South Carolina, whom I never saw 
but on that occasion, was younger than most of the senators — 
a well-formed, lithe, and commanding person — a fine repre- 
sentative of a distinguished Virginia family. He delivered a 
speech which, for freedom of utterance, beauty of style, and 
gracefulness of delivery, was certainly not excelled by that of 
any senator on the occasion. He was a brilliant speaker. 



246 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Hearing him only once, and that on a subject which did not 
call forth his powers to their utmost extent, I could not form 
a confident opinion of his abilities, but with less depth of thought 
and less power in expression than some other senators pos- 
sessed, he appeared to be one of the most facile and pleasing 
speakers to whom it has been my privilege to listen. 

Several other senators, among whom I remember Wright of 
New York and Clay of Alabama, made speeches creditable to 
themselves and to the United States Senate. I do not recollect 
a single remark in the long and exciting discussion that was 
not in harmony with the dignity of the body and consistent 
with the strictest rules of senatorial propriety. 

Any comparison of the senators with one another, in view of 
their diversified qualifications, even by a writer who knew them 
intimately, would necessarily be imperfect ; but by me, whose 
knowledge of them was so slight, it must be with little discrim- 
ination, and might be very unjust. I may, however, with 
propriety, state the results of a single day's observations. To 
me it seemed that Clay was the most lively, Calhoun the most 
earnest, Webster the most solid, Rives the most courtly, Pres- 
ton the most fascinating, and Benton the least interesting of the 
senators. 

"There were giants in the earth in those days." It is a sin- 
gular fact that giants have always been supposed to belong to 
past times. The golden age preceded the historic. Few of the 
living generation have seen giants. Whether this failure is to be 
traced to the degeneracy of the races or the tendency to invest 
the dimly known beings of the past with imaginary greatness, it 
is the province of science and of history to decide. It may be 
that to future generations the United States senators of the pres- 
ent day will appear to be as profound in statesmanship, as logical 
in argument, as eloquent in speech, as courteous in debate, and 
as dignified in manners", as the senators of the Van Buren ad- 
ministration, but as yet the glamour of distance and of dimness 
has not produced this impression. Who among modern sen- 
ators can be compared with Clay in resistless eloquence and 
masterly policy ; to Calhoun in profound thought and con- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 247 

densed argument ; or to Webster in wise statesmanship and 
patriotic devotion to the interests of the whole country ? Let 
us hope that freedom from sectional strife and the love of 
country will, at no distant day, mature and bring to the front 
statesmen whose genius, learning, and renown will equal, if 
they do not eclipse, those of the most brilliant senators of the 
most favored period of American history. 



USEFUL INVENTIONS. 

THE first three quarters of the nineteenth century will be 
distinguished in all coming time as the Age of Inventions. 
The world little knows how deeply it is indebted for its com- 
forts and conveniences to men of inventive genius. We use a 
thousand articles, the product of art and skill, without ever in- 
quiring whence they came or to whose patient studies and 
laborious efforts we are under obligations for their origination 
and excellence. I am writing with a golden pen, dipped in 
ink contained in a glass inkstand supported by a handsomely 
moulded bronze base. How many centuries of thought and 
toil were needed to bring these common conveniences to their 
present perfection ! The furniture, implements, adornments, 
and innumerable means of enjoyment now possessed by civil- 
ized nations are the result of the combined studies and activities 
of mankind in all past ages. Every generation has bequeathed 
to the succeeding one the fruits of its inventive toils. The 
present century commenced its operations on an elevated plane 
and with marked advantages, but it must be conceded, after 
every reasonable deduction, that it has excelled all past cen- 
turies in the number, variety, and usefulness of its inventions. 
I will briefly mention a few of them, with their inestimable ad- 
vantages. 

My memory antedates the invention of the Steamboat. Liv- 
ing in an obscure rural neighborhood, I knew nothing of this 
wonderful production of genius until some years after it had 
attracted the attention of the world. I recollect reading, at an 
early period of my life, a graphic account of the launching of 
the first steamer at the city of New York. All except a few 
skilled mechanics and learned scientists believed that Fulton 
was visionary, and that his boat would be a ludicrous failure. 
On the day appointed for launching the strange craft thousands 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 249- 

gathered on the shore of the stream to witness its defeat. All 
sorts of remarks in derision of the wild scheme were indulged 
in by the amused spectators. The boat was launched, pushed 
out into the middle of the river, its head turned against the 
current, the steam applied, and it moved off in fine style. The 
shout that rose from the astonished crowd rent the very heavens. 
From that hour nobody doubted the success of steam navigation. 

On my first visit to Richmond, in 1823, nothing more ex- 
cited my curiosity and won my admiration than a steamboat. 
It was a small craft then plying between this city and Norfolk. 
Compared with the noble ocean steamers of the present time it 
would be quite contemptible, but to me, reared among the 
mountains and who had seen nothing larger than a boat pro- 
pelled by poling or paddling, it seemed a wonderful production 
of art. 

Steamers rapidly multiplied, and soon ran on all the rivers 
and bays of the country. The most sanguine advocates of 
steam power had no expectation that it could ever be applied 
to ocean navigation except along the coasts. Steam, however,, 
having been harnessed for the service of man, it was impossible 
to predict where its exploits would end. In the year 1838 I 
attended a meeting of the Baptist Triennial Convention in New 
York. The city was thrown into the most intense excitement 
by the unexpected arrival of the Great Western, the first 
steamer that had crossed the Atlantic. Its success was com- 
plete. The citizens were invited to visit and inspect this rare 
specimen of naval architecture. I was domiciliated with an 
honored member of the city council, and went with him, under 
favorable circumstances, to examine this beautiful steamer. 
We have seen larger, and perhaps stronger and more scientifi- 
cally built, steamers, but we have never seen one more tastefully 
finished or more comfortably arranged than the Great Western. 
Its voyage was an epoch in navigation. In a little while steamers 
were navigating every ocean, sea, bay, and considerable stream 
on the globe. It is impossible to estimate the influence of steam 
navigation on the industries, commerce, civilization, and history 
of the world. 



250 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

The Daguerreian art came into existence long after I had 
reached maturity. For it we are indebted to Daguerre, a 
Frenchman. The first specimen of it that I saw was a picture 
of the southern end of the old market-house on Main street, in 
this city, taken by a French druggist whose store was near at 
hand. The art has undergone various changes and improve- 
ments. The daguerreotype was succeeded by the ambrotype, 
a picture on glass, and this has been supplanted by the photo- 
graph — the present style of taking pictures. It is certainly a 
wonderful art. At a small cost and with little trouble it enables 
us to preserve the likenesses of our friends with a degree of ac-. 
curacy which could not have been secured in former times by 
royal wealth. = Moreover, it enables even the poor to possess 
accurate pictures of the most remarkable scenes in nature and 
the most wonderful productions of art. One may view by its 
help the Bay of Naples or the Arch of Titus without the cost 
and trouble of visiting it. In the steamer, the expansive power 
of heat is made subservient to navigation ; in the daguerreian 
art, the sun himself is made to do the work for centuries per- 
formed by painters. 

Of the invention of Lucifer Matches I can give no account. 
They derive their name, not from their first maker, but from 
the being supposed to rule the fiery region. They are small 
things, and very abundant and cheap, but persons who have 
been always accustomed to their use can form but little concep- 
tion of their value. I had reached maturity before they were 
invented, and know by experience the inconvenience of living 
without them. In the country fire was usually preserved by 
being carefully covered up at night in ashes. If it was extin- 
guished it had to be obtained by the use of flint, steel, and 
spunk, or a tinder horn. In the absence of these conveniences 
it was sometimes necessary to send a mile or more, in the most 
inclement weather, to obtain a live coal with which to kindle 
the morning fires. Lucifer matches have abolished the use of 
all the means formerly employed for obtaining fire, but, like 
other good things, they have been perverted to evil purposes. 
They are used by incendiaries for the accomplishment of their 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 251 

nefarious purposes. But, with all the mischief to which they 
are perverted, how could we dispense with them? 

Railroads, with their Steam Engines, are among the wonders 
of the age. I remember well my first conception of a railroad, 
obtained from a magazine, illustrated by plates, some time about 
the year 1829. At that time there was no railroad on this con-, 
tinent. The first in this country of whose existence I have any 
recollection was the Baltimore and Ohio, extending to Ellicott's 
mills, where its progress was for some while arrested. The first 
I saw, as stated in another article, was that from Frenchtown, 
on the Chesapeake bay, to New Castle, on the Delaware river. 
At an early period a railroad was constructed from the coal pits 
in Chesterfield county to this city. The road from Petersburg 
to Weldon was among the first projected and commenced in 
the land. All these roads, excepting, possibly, the Petersburg 
and Weldon, were operated by horse or mule power. The 
Chesterfield road continued to be worked by mules until it was 
superseded by the Richmond and Danville road. The intro- 
duction of the locomotive, about the year 1830, marked an 
era in railroad operations. The first that I saw was on the 
Frenchtown and New Castle road. One accustomed to steam 
engines from childhood can form no conception of the impres- 
sion made by it on my mind. It seemed to be a huge iron 
monster, endowed with life and intelligence, and devoting its 
superhuman powers to the convenience of man. It is not sur- 
prising that a beholder who had never heard of the engine 
should have been alarmed at its appearance, and described it 
as ' ' the devil in harness. ' ' The advantages of railroads soon 
brought them into general use among a people so practical 
and enterprising as were the Americans. Now every plain is 
traversed, every mountain is tunnelled, and every river is 
bridged in their interest. Persons accustomed to railroad loco- 
motion cannot well imagine the tediousness of travelling by the 
old methods. Yet, strange to say, we hear almost as much 
complaint of slow travelling in railroad cars, when passengers 
are rolled at the rate of five hundred miles a day, without fatigue 
or care, as when they rode in coaches sixty miles a day, and 



252 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

frequently found it necessary to trudge through the mud and 
climb the hills to lighten the draft of the exhausted teams. 

I must refer to one more invention. The Telegraph is more 
wonderful, and little less useful, than the railroad. I remember 
hearing Elder John Kerr say, in one of his imaginative, ora- 
torical flights, that he would not be surprised if the time should 
come when intelligence would be communicated by lightning. 
Whether he had any definite conception of its probability, or 
merely indulged in fancy, I know not ; to his hearers the pre- 
diction seemed to be a wild dream. He did not, I think, live to 
see its fulfillment, but the event quickly followed his death. Had 
it been suggested to the wisest of the ancient philosophers that 
the time would come when even peasants would eat their break- 
fasts while reading the news of the past day from all parts of 
the world, and from continents and islands of which the ancients 
had never dreamed, the prophecy would have seemed to them 
as the lawless fancy of a disordered brain ; and yet we have 
lived to see this most improbable conjecture realized in every 
quarter of the globe. 

Of the more recent inventions — the sewing, reaping, and 
mowing machines, the phonographs, telephones, and electric 
lights, and of the many labor-saving arrangements — I need not 
speak. They are revolutionizing the world, but whether their 
social and moral influence will be for good or for evil time must 
decide. 



LI. 

A TRIP TO THE WEST 

AT the close of the Triennial Convention in Philadelphia, in 
1844, my friend, Rev. Daniel Witt, and myself set off on 
a Western excursion — he with the purpose of deciding whether 
he would remove to the West, and I to see my relatives who 
had settled in Missouri. I kept a journal of our tour, which 
was published in the Religious Herald shortly after my return ; 
and I may remark, in passing, that this is the first record of 
the kind to which I have referred for reviving my recollections. 
It was in many respects a remarkable journey, of which I will 
give a brief account. 

Our trip was from Philadelphia to Chambersburg by railway, 
and from thence by coach across the Alleghany mountain to 
Pittsburg. The coach was crowded within and without, the 
weather was rainy, the roads were muddy, our progress was 
slow, and our condition was far from being enviable. On this 
part of the journey occurred the extraordinary display of self- 
ishness mentioned some time since in the Herald by Dr. J. M. 
Pendleton, one of our fellow-passengers. 

Rev. Mr. was among the travellers. He was a mem- 
ber of the Convention from the Buckeye State, had taken quite 
an active part in its proceedings, and was a man of no mean 
gifts. His name was the eleventh on the list of passengers, and 
of course he was not entitled to an inside seat. When the coach 
was brought out at Chambersburg he was first to enter it, 
and, without ceremony or apology, took a choice hind seat. 
During the journey many changes of seats were made for the 
accommodation of the wet and weary passengers, but the Buck- 
eye traveller firmly maintained his position. After journeying 
all night and until late in the afternoon of the next day, through 
frequent and heavy showers, the coach broke down beneath its 
heavy human freight. The driver was compelled to leave the 



254 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

coach and horses and go forward to a tavern to obtain help. 
He was followed by the deck passengers, anxious to find a 
shelter from the threatening rain. Among the travellers there 
was a Bostonian, of genial and most unselfish spirit. He had 
endeavored throughout the trip to make himself agreeable and 
diminish the discomforts of the travel. He was left by the 
driver in charge of his team. The rain beginning to fall more 
heavily, the generous Yankee came to the door of the coach 
and inquired whether any of the passengers could lend him an 
umbrella. The umbrellas of the inside tourists, with a single 
exception, had been lent to their outside friends and carried 
by them to the tavern. All answered, except the Buckeye, 
that their umbrellas were in use. It was soon perceived that 
he had one carefully covered and laid at his side ; and he was 
requested to lend it to the exposed Bostonian. He replied : 
''It is new — it has never been used — it has a cover on it." 
"Take my parasol," said a kind lady. "No," replied the 
generous Yankee, ' ' I won' t remain ; the gentleman may take 
care of the horses himself." "fje is right!" exclaimed the 
lady ; and all the passengers assented to the remark. ' ' I 
guess," said the Buckeye with imperturbable composure, "he 
is offended because I would not lend him my umbrella." 

From Pittsburg we travelled by steamer down the Ohio and 
up the Mississippi river to St. Louis, occupying, including 
stoppages and changes, quite a week. The trip to me was ex- 
ceedingly interesting. I was a green traveller, and to me every- 
thing was new. The shores, the towns, the passengers, the 
customs, and the ever-shifting scenes furnished opportunities 
for observations and yielded increasing delight. 

Brother Witt and myself spent a month in the State of Mis- 
souri, visiting our friends, traversing its broad and beautiful 
prairies, navigating its noble rivers, trying our unpracticed 
hands at unsuccessful deer-hunting, and preaching occasion- 
ally, to deeply interested audiences, the same gospel which in 
our youth we had proclaimed with so much pleasure in the 
rural districts of Virginia. We seemed to live over again our 
early years. It was to us a season of great enjoyment, and, I 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 255 

trust, of no little profit. During all the month the rains, with 
slight intermissions, had been falling, and sometimes heavily. 
The rivers were swelled above their banks, the prairies were 
covered with water, and the whole country was converted into 
mud. 

On the 19th of June we left St. Louis on our return home. - 
We took passage in a steamer to ascend the Illinois river. We 
doubt whether in all the history of Western steamboat naviga- 
tion such a trip has been recorded. Since the settlement of 
the country by Europeans no such rise in the western streams 
has been known. A pillar on the levee in St. Louis, erected 
to perpetuate the memory of the flood, shows that the Missis- 
sippi was three or four feet higher than it has been at any other 
time within the period of authentic information. The levee, 
quite wide and elevated, was covered with water, and the houses 
on Water street were deluged by it. The river overspread the 
bottom on the Illinois side to the bluff, a distance of eight or ten 
miles. On the topmost wave of this unparalleled flood we com- 
menced our homeward voyage. Whoever makes such a trip 
will remember it. In our progress the steamer passed along 
stage roads, over prairies and cultivated farms, and through 
the streets of towns, finding it necessary to change its course 
continually to avoid the descending drift-wood, with which the 
current in many places was literally covered. Houses might 
be seen submerged in every degree, from the door-sill to the 
roof. Many signs were visible of the escape of families from 
the devouring flood through the roofs of their houses, and by 
boats kept in readiness for use in the last extremity. The 
fresh in the Illinois was proportionately greater than in any 
other river. Its banks are so high that passengers on the 
upper decks of steamers cannot at low water see the bottoms 
on either side. At this time the banks were overflowed to the 
depth of ten feet, and the voyagers could gaze on a boundless 
waste of water. At Naples, a small town on the river, the 
stream was forty feet perpendicular above low-water mark. 

After two days' run amid the wonders of the rushing, deso- 
lating flood we landed at Ottawa, and took a coach for Chi- 



256 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

cago, then a town of seven thousand inhabitants. From this 
place we came in a steamer by Mickinaw and Detroit to Buf- 
falo, and thence by rail to the Falls of Niagara, our point of 
destination. 

Of all the persons who have ever seen this thundering cata- 
ract, we, who had just travelled on the Father of Waters in his 
most turbid and turbulent mood, saw it at the greatest disad- 
vantage. Things are great or small by comparison. The 
Niagara is a great river, and the cataract is one of the wonders 
of the world. I took much pains to get a favorable view of it. 
I was conducted to a commanding position, and opened my 
eyes suddenly on the scene that I might be strongly impressed 
by its grandeur. I was disappointed. It was impossible for 
me to conceive that the Falls were great. I thought of the 
Mississippi as I had just seen it, ten miles wide, covered with 
drift-wood, and flowing at the rate of five or six miles an hour. 
My imagination could supply all the rest. I fancied that I 
could see the Mississippi, with its enormous masses of drift- 
wood, dashing over a precipice deep in proportion to the width 
of the stream, and roaring above seven thunders in the fearful 
chasm below. That was a cataract worth looking at. The 
Falls before me, in spite of myself, seemed to be little more 
than the mimic waterfalls that I sported with in my childhood. 
I did not make the attempt to jump across the Falls, but I felt 
as if I could do it. 

After surveying the Falls from different points, and forming 
a just estimate of its proportions, I was deeply impressed with 
its magnitude and grandeur. It does not equal in extent and 
sublimity the falls of the Mississippi river created by my ex- 
cited imagination, but it is certainly among the most interest- 
ing of the earthly wonders on which I have been permitted to 
gaze. It is worthy to be classed with the stupendous Rock 
Bridge of this State ; the Saguenay river, in Canada, with its 
wild and diversified scenery ; Mont Blanc, in Switzerland, ar- 
rayed in the golden hues of an evening sunset. But neither pen 
nor pencil can give the reader any adequate conception of it. 

The seeming insignificance of the cataract was the only delu- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 257 

sion into which I fell on this visit. Elder Witt and myself em- 
ployed a hackman to carry us to Lundy's Lane, a memorable 
battle-field of the war of 1812. He was very civil and kind, 
and to save us from expense he volunteered to act as our cice- 
rone. He had heard the popular guide so often describe the 
scene that it was quite familiar to him. Very fluently he 
pointed out where the British troops were posted, where Scott 
with his valiant forces advanced, and how the battle raged with 
varying success until finally victory perched on the American 
banner. We were profoundly interested in the scene, and in 
imagination fought over the battle of Lundy' s Lane. 

On returning home I wrote out and published an account of 
my visit to Lundy' s Lane, with the impressions of the battle 
which I had received from our courteous guide. Some years 
afterwards I was in conversation with a gentleman who had vis- 
ited Lundy's Lane. He referred to Brock's monument. I 
told him there was no monument on the field when I was there. 
He said there must have been— that it stood at the head of the 
village. I replied that I saw no village at the place. "Why," 
said he, "you have never been to Lundy's Lane." He was 
right. The artful but dishonest hackman carried us a mile or 
so from the Falls, and finding that he could practice on our 
credulity, made us believe that we were at Lundy's Lane. 

We were neither the first nor the last travellers deceived by 
guides. Not long since we read an account in a highly respect- 
able journal of Mount Vesuvius by a tourist who had either 
never seen it or had been grievously cheated by his cicerone. 
The reports of travellers in unexplored regions are in many 
cases no more worthy of credit than dreams. Their uncer- 
tainty and their exaggerations give force and interest to the 
admirable burlesque stories of Baron Munchausen. 



LII. 

A TRIP TO FLORIDA. 

NEAR the close the year 1844 the state of my wife' s health 
rendered it necessary that I should take her to a southern 
climate. By medical advice, Florida was selected as the most 
suitable resort. We travelled by rail to Wilmington N. C, 
and by steamer to Charleston, S. C, where we spent a Sabbath. 
At this latter place an incident occurred which deserves to be 
recorded. We put up at the Charleston Hotel. Mrs. Jeter 
and myself were seated in the parlor. She was pale, delicate, 
far from home, among strangers, and depressed in spirits. In 
the parlor were many ladies and gentlemen, healthful and gay, 
engaged in lively conversation. Mrs. Jeter and myself sat alone, 
and were silent. As one of the ladies was about to leave the 
room she walked up to Mrs. Jeter, handed her a large and 
beautiful bouquet, and, without uttering a word, retired before 
we had an opportunity of thanking her. A courtesy so con- 
siderate, kind, and graceful brought tears to our eyes. We 
knew not her name, and she probably did not know ours ; but 
I have never since thought of the event without the liveliest 
admiration of the delicate attention of the Charleston lady. 
How much might be done, with little cost or trouble, to cheer 
the sorrowing and to encourage the desponding by thoughtful 
and delicate attentions. 

From Charleston we went by steamer to Savannah. Of all 
the cities I have seen in the New World or in the Old, this was 
the most profusely and the most beautifully shaded. From this 
point we took a steamer to Palatka, on the St. Johns river, 
Florida. Its route was along the bays and creeks on the east- 
ern coast of Georgia. The boat was pretty well crowded 
with invalids seeking a southern climate. It presented a sad 
spectacle. The invalids were in various stages of that most 
fearful of human diseases — consumption. In the saloon and on 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 259 

deck, fore and aft, coughing was incessant. It was impossible 
to avoid its sound. The conversation all turned on the terrible 
malady. Each sufferer had his tale of pains, and weakness, 
and loss of appetite, arid hemorrhages, and various remedies 
tried in vain, of which he was never wearied of telling. Go 
where I would, the deep, hollow cough was sounding in my 
ears ; address whom I would, consumption, with its various ills, 
real and imaginary, was the theme of conversation. Most of 
the emaciated invalids were hopeful of relief from the balmy air 
of the South. 

I am not peculiarly subject to the power of my imagination, 
but after spending the afternoon and early hours of the night in 
listening to descriptions of the symptoms of consumption, and 
marking its unmistakable and frightful ravages on beautiful 
women and stalwart men, I began seriously to question whether 
I was not myself a victim of the deadly disease. I felt and re- 
membered various symptoms bearing a strong resemblance to 
those which had been so minutely depicted by my fellow-pas- 
sengers. My spirits were depressed by the melancholy scenes 
around me. I retired to rest with a painful apprehension that 
I might have, in its incipiency, the very disease the sad marks 
of which I saw all around me. A good night's sleep and the 
refreshing breezes of the morning dissipated my fears. 

The St. Johns is a broad stream, coming from the interior of 
Florida, and met by a strong tide from the Atlantic. Its banks 
are low, and its bottoms were heavily wooded, and covered 
with a luxuriant and tangled undergrowth. I was struck with 
one fact. The palmetto is the monarch of the forests. It is a 
straight tree, with thick, tough bark, and long leaves at the 
top, umbrella-shaped. All the trees of the forest — whether in 
honor of their monarch I cannot say — seemed inclined to as- 
sume the palmetto shape. The pine, which I had been accus- 
tomed from my boyhood to see as a spreading, shady tree, sent 
up a tall, straight body, without branches, and with a heavy 
tuft .of long leaves issuing from its summit. 

At 9 o'clock at night we reached Palatka, the point at which 
we were to take the stage for St. Augustine. It was a mem- 



260 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

orable day in Palatka. Half the town had been burned by 
an accidental fire — a serious matter to its inhabitants, though 
there were but two houses in the place. If the better one was 
spared, the one burned had nothing to boast of on the score of 
architectural style. The covering on the bed in the hotel was 
light, and I have no recollection of having suffered more from 
cold on any night than on the first which I spent in Florida. 

The next day, after a few hours' run in a light wagon, we 
reached ' St. Augustine. It was built by the Spaniards, and is 
the oldest town on the continent. It contained probably 1,000 
inhabitants, with narrow streets, and houses singularly shaped, 
whose verandas almost touched one another across the darkened 
streets below. They were of Spanish architecture, and bore, 
as I have since learned, a striking resemblance to the small 
towns of Southern Europe. A large portion of the native 
population was Minorcans. They had quite a romantic his- 
tory. In the early settlement of the colony certain scheming 
adventurers induced a large number of peasants from the island 
of Minorca to emigrate to Florida by fair promises of fertile 
lands and a genial climate. The Spaniards, who were largely 
engaged in the slave trade, made arrangements for reducing 
these confiding immigrants to slavery. They were landed and 
settled some distance south of St. Augustine, and were kept for 
years in strict bondage. At length they obtained information 
of the settlement at St. Augustine, made their escape from slav- 
ery, and arrived in a body at the town. Here their descendants 
were living — a plain and thriftless people, retaining in a remark- 
able degree the manners and customs of their ancestors — when 
I was at the place. 

It was not my purpose to spend the winter in St. Augustine. 
Mrs. Jeter had relatives and friends residing there, to whose 
care I committed her, and after a few weeks set off on my re- 
turn home. From St; Augustine I sailed in a regular packet 
to Charleston. It was the longest sea voyage which I had then 
made. The weather was mild, the winds were light, the voy- 
age was pleasant, nothing of particular interest occurred, and I 
reached Charleston safely. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 261 

My voyage from Charleston to Wilmington was more event- 
ful. When I reached the wharf to embark a heavy wind was 
blowing from the southeast, and dark clouds vailed the skies. 
Had I been back at the hotel I would have waited for more 
propitious weather, but as I had made all my arrangements for 
embarking I was unwilling to change my purpose. It was 
ominous that there was only one passenger beside myself. Re- 
marks were frequently made by the persons on the shore of the 
probable roughness of the passage. We had barely passed 
beyond the bar when the steamer was frightfully tossed by the 
wind and the billows. Unable to stand on my feet, and threat- 
ened with nausea, I retired to the saloon and prostrated myself 
on a settee. By keeping my head level with my body I could 
escape sea-sickness — at least such a measure of it as would pro- 
duce vomiting. Soon it was dark, the lights were extinguished 
or lowered, everything on deck was put in order for a storm, 
and all the officers and hands of the boat were at their posts. 
I was sure from the creaking, thumping, and tossing of the 
boat that the weather must be heavy ; but not a soul could I 
see from whom I could gain any information about the storm 
or our danger. My fellow-traveller, vvho seemed to be a land- 
lubber, soon fell asleep, and his snoring mingled with the roar- 
ing of the billows. I had long wished to see a storm at sea, 
but I had no desire to be introduced to it under such circum- 
stances as then surrounded me. I resolved, however, that I 
would see, if possible, something of its terrible grandeur. I 
arose from the settee, and staggering along, catching at the 
furniture as I went, opened the door of the saloon, and stepped 
into water ankle deep on the deck. I got back as best I could 
and resigned myself to my fate and to solemn meditations and 
prayer. The words of Kirk White came impressively to my 
mind : 

" Once on the raging sea I rode ; 

The storm was loud, the night was dark, 
The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed 

The wind that tossed my foundering bark." 

It was one of the most painful nights that I have ever passed. 



262 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

I did not sleep, but, like the voyagers driven with Paul on the 
sea of Adria, ' ' wished for the day. ' ' 

About dawn we reached the mouth of the Cape Fear river. 
My fellow-voyager, having occasion to go on deck, soon re- 
turned with a smiling face, saying: "We have had a very 
pleasant run." I knew if we had I had been insane. In a 
short while the captain, answering an inquirer on the shore, 
said, in language the coarseness of which the reader may ex- 
cuse on account of its expressiveness : ' ' We have had a hell of 
a night." He afterwards stated that it was one of the worst 
passages that he had ever made on that perilous coast. 

Having lost a night's sleep, and being much prostrated, I 
resolved to rest a day in Wilmington. I repaired to a hotel, 
and on looking in a mirror I was frightened at the appearance 
of my face. It was emaciated and quite changed in its propor- 
tions. It seemed impossible that a night of terror should have 
caused so great an alteration, but the proof of it was clear to 
my vision. An accidental turning of the glass revealed the fact 
that its reflections were not true. By a change of position, it 
presented my face in an aspect as ludicrous as at first it seemed 
meagre and sad. I was quite relieved by the discovery, and 
soon felt that I was myself again. 

After a few weeks' absence I reached my home, with great 
cause of thankfulness that my life had been preserved, and 
that my journey had been, in many respects, pleasant as well as 
safe. 



mi. 

KNAP PS VISIT TO RICHMOND. 

ELDER Jacob Knapp was the most eminent American 
evangelist of his day, certainly among Baptists. He had 
gained a great reputation at the South by the results of meet- 
ings which he held in Baltimore some time about 1840. The 
Baptists of that city were few and feeble, their progress having 
been greatly hindered by Antinomian views prevalent in some 
of the churches. The visit of Elder Knapp to the city was 
most opportune. Large crowds attended on his ministry, 
deep and wide-spread impressions were caused by it, and large 
accessions were made to the Baptist churches. It was a new 
era for the Baptists of Baltimore. An addition of five hundred 
members — many of them wealthy and respectable — was made 
to their ranks. 

A few years afterwards Knapp was invited to labor with the 
Baptist churches in Washington, District of Columbia. His suc- 
cess here was good, but not comparable in extent to that of his 
Baltimore meetings. His contiguity to Richmond, at a time 
when our churches needed reviving, led to the inquiry whether 
it would be wise to request him to hold meetings here. There 
were serious objections to the measure. Chief among these 
was the fact that he was an outspoken and, as was supposed, 
not very prudent abolitionist. At that time there was no little 
excitement in the country on the subject of slavery, and the 
public mind in Richmond was in no frame to listen even to a 
candid discussion of it, and was ready to break out into vio- 
lence upon any indiscreet interference with it. Most of the 
Baptists desired that he should come if they could be assured 
that he would act cautiously on the vexing subject of slavery, 
but many feared that he might do more harm by indiscretion 
than he would do good by his preaching. 

Under these circumstances, Deacon A. Thomas, who was 



264 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

anxious that Knapp should visit Richmond, and myself were 
requested to go to Washington city and have an interview 
with him. We called on him and assured him that the brethren 
desired him to visit Richmond, but told him plainly that any 
efforts on his part to discuss the subject of slavery, while it 
might be endured, would certainly preclude the possibility of 
his usefulness. He was exceedingly chary in his conversation. 
He positively declined to give any assurance that he would not 
preach on the subject of slavery, and we as positively told him 
that we did not wish his services if he would not refrain from 
its discussion. With this understanding of the case, without 
any pledge on his part, he accepted the invitation to hold 
meetings in Richmond. 

In a short time Elder Knapp, accompanied by Mrs. Knapp, 
made his appearance in this city. He was then probably fifty 
years old, short of stature, thick, with strong Dutch features. 
He commenced his labors under some respects favorable, and 
under other respects unfavorable. The Baptists were united 
in his support and intensely anxious for his success. The anti- 
abolition and skeptical spirit were combined against him and 
ready to avail themselves of any indiscreet remark which he 
might utter or any imprudent step which he might make to 
hinder his usefulness and cast reproach on the meetings. 

Knapp began his preaching in the First Baptist church. 
His success in Baltimore insured him large congregations from 
the beginning. The services proceeded several days in the 
most satisfactory and encouraging manner. At length, how- 
ever, some remark on the subject of slavery, as it seemed to 
us needlessly thrown into the discourse, served to fill the 
brethren with the apprehension of his imprudence and give 
his enemies an excuse for reproaching him and his work. We 
cautioned him of the injurious influence on his ministry of 
these incidental allusions to slavery. They could enlighten 
and profit nobody, but they were admirably suited to dispirit 
his friends and to enrage his enemies. He became more cau- 
tious. For some days his preaching was plain, earnest, and 
well adapted to do good, and the religious feeling of the con- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 265 

gregation was evidently increasing. It was not long, however, 
before other remarks were made on the subject of slavery, in- 
nocent in themselves, and which Elder Taylor or myself might 
have made without offense, that checked the rising interest in 
religion and set all to watching his words in an anxious or in a 
captious spirit. 

Perceiving his strong desire to make side remarks on the 
subject of slavery, and that they must prevent his usefulness, 
we proposed to him to continue his preaching without these 
impertinent allusions so well suited to divert attention from the 
main object of the services — the conversion of sinners — and 
that at the close of his labors we would call together all the 
Baptists of the city and give him an opportunity to deliver his 
views of slavery without restraint. To this proposal he showed 
no readiness to accede. We should have been right well 
pleased to encounter him in debate on the subject under cir- 
cumstances which did not threaten to prevent the usefulness of 
our meetings. 

After a week or two the meeting was removed to the Second 
Baptist church. The preaching of Elder Knapp was continued 
with very little change in its character. He would make excel- 
lent impressions by his very solemn and searching appeals, 
and then efface them by injudicious remarks. We were tossed 
from hope to fear, and from fear to hope, we know not how 
many days. At length these ill-timed remarks and insinua- 
tions, that under other circumstances might have been en- 
dured, became unbearable. At the close of a service which had 
been attended by a large congregation, upon brief consultation 
among the brethren he was informed that his services were no 
longer desired. To prevent tumult or excitement arrange- 
ments were made for his return to Washington by the early 
train of the next day. We do not remember what compensa- 
tion was allowed the Elder for his labors, but we are quite sure, 
from our knowledge of the generous deacons of the day, that 
he did not depart without his hire. 

Having passed over the battle, we may now at leisure survey 
the field of conflict. Elder Knapp was no ordinary man. He 



266 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

had clear conceptions, strong common sense, a fair knowledge 
of theology, a pretty thorough acquaintance with human na- 
ture — Yankee, not Southern, human nature, if I may use the 
remark without discourtesy — and a remarkably pointed man- 
ner of expressing his thoughts. He was neither an orator nor 
a logician, but was gifted in the art of illustration. His preach- 
ing had more to do with the conscience than the emotions. 
He had a great opportunity of usefulness in Richmond, had he 
known how to employ it. As it was, the meeting was attended 
with considerable success. Quite a number of additions were 
made to the churches, and some of them were valuable. On 
the whole, I considered him a pious man and an able evan- 
gelist. 

Elder Knapp, however, was not perfect, and in this respect 
did not differ from his race. He had more obstinacy than pru- 
dence. In his attacks on slavery he did not go far enough to 
entitle him to praise for his heroism, and he went quite too far 
to be commended for his discretion. His judgment was greatly 
influenced by his feelings. I may state a fact in confirmation 
of this remark. During the time that he was preaching at the 
First church he held a service in the African church. He was 
greatly delighted with his success. The congregation was 
large, and the religious feeling was deep and general. He de- 
clared that he had not seen so much of the presence of God 
since he had been in the city, and expressed the opinion that 
.his labors would have been far more useful among the colored 
people than they had been among the whites. A few days 
afterwards, in discussing the subject of slavery with him, I told 
him that an incidental benefit of it was that a great number of 
the race had been evangelized. He instantly affirmed that the 
negroes were so ignorant and so debased by slavery that they 
could not be benefited by the gospel. I called his attention 
to his report of the result of his late service in the African 
church. To me it seemed that he resorted to mere quibbling 
to conceal a contradiction which he must have discerned. 

I must refer in self- vindication to another point. In the 
Life of Elder Knapp there are some statements which need to 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 267 

be corrected, or, at least, explained. I have not the book at 
hand, and must rely on my memory in reporting them. 

It is stated that Elder Knapp ' ' boarded " with me during 
his stay in Richmond. To board is to receive food and lodg- 
ing for compensation. Brother Knapp and his wife shared in 
the hospitality of myself and family, and had the best fare that 
we could give them. Possibly by the word "boarded" he 
meant simply entertained. He censured me on account of the 
manner in which a servant of mine was clothed. These are 
the facts. Old Uncle Davy was a slave almost entirely past 
service, who came into my possession by marriage, and for 
whose maintenance I was bound by the laws of the State as 
well as the dictates of humanity. Whether he or I was master 
it would have been difficult to decide. To me was conceded 
the right to control, but as a matter of fact Uncle Davy would 
have his own way. He had a singular penchant for preserving 
his clothes. He had more, if not of so fine a texture, I dare 
say, than either myself or Elder Knapp, but he wore his good 
clothes only on Sundays. He had an overcoat which had 
probably been in use twenty-five years. It had been patched 
and darned, and mended again and again, until it had all the 
colors of the rainbow, and probably contained nothing of the 
stuff of which it was originally made. I repeatedly expostu- 
lated with him against wearing the relic, but he insisted that it 
was comfortable and that its appearance was of no importance. 
I could not have prevented him from wearing that and other 
apparel well suited to it without the exercise of an authority 
which Elder Knapp would have considered as a bitter fruit of 
slavery, and to the use of which I had an instinctive repug- 
nance. That the brother gave the impressions made on his 
mind by the beggarly garments of my old servant or bene- 
ficiary, I do not question ; but whether, as a participant of my 
hospitality, it was kind in him to report these impressions with- 
out some effort to learn whether they were founded in truth or 
misconception, the reader must judge for himself. 



LIV. 

CAMP-MEETING SCENES. 

THE success of the Baptist camp-meetings in the Northern 
Neck led to the holding of similar meetings in other parts 
of the State. Rev. W. F. Broaddus, afterwards dubbed D. D. , 
attended several of the meetings in the Neck. Being much 
pleased with their results he resolved to introduce them into 
his field of labor. Several were held under his management in 
the counties of Fauquier and Culpeper. They were largely 
attended, very orderly, and eminently profitable. Some time 
about the year 1840 Dr. Broaddus removed to Kentucky, and 
the propriety of holding a camp-meeting without his judicious 
superintendence was very doubtful ; but a permanent and com- 
fortable encampment having been prepared in Culpeper county, 
and used with great advantage,- it was deemed by the brethren 
in the vicinity unwise to abandon it. A meeting was appointed 
to be held at the regular time, in the summer after the removal 
of Broaddus. The usual ministers, excepting their trusted 
leader, were in attendance. The number of persons encamped 
on the ground, and the congregation assembling from day to 
day, were quite as great as on previous occasions. 

The meeting was in some respects the most remarkable 
which in the course of an extended ministry I have seen. 
There was nothing uncommon in the preaching. It was plain, 
evangelical, faithful, and earnest, but not accompanied by such 
impassioned appeals as were made by Elder John Kerr at the 
first camp-meeting held in the vicinity. The congregations 
were unusually attentive, serious, and respectful. The place 
bore a funereal aspect. " 

The singular thing in the meeting was that there were no 
cases of conversion, no inquirers, and no demonstration of reli- 
gious feeling till near the close of the services. Scarcely any 
persons presented themselves for prayer or to receive special 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 269 

instruction. The absence of Dr. Broaddus was felt and lamented, 
and the impression generally prevailed that his presence was 
essential to the success of the meeting. There was, however, 
no relaxation of earnestness and labor on the part of the minis- 
ters and brethren, or of profound and solemn attention on the 
part of the audience. For a whole week the prayers and ex- 
ertions of Christians for the salvation of sinners were uninter- 
mitted. 

The last morning arrived clear, calm, and pleasant. There 
was something peculiarly soothing and impressive in the dense 
shade and unbroken stillness of the surrounding forest. Ar- 
rangements had been made for a parting service. Inquirers 
and persons who had found peace in believing during the meet- 
ing were requested to occupy reserved seats in front of the 
stand. To our amazement and delight, long rows of seats, one 
after another, were filled with inquirers and converts, number- 
ing from one hundred and fifty to two hundred persons. At 
the close of the public services the ministers passed among the 
occupants of the reserved seats and were astonished to find 
that almost all of them were cherishing hope in Christ, which 
they had obtained since the opening of the services in the 
camp. There was no outburst of feeling, but great tenderness 
and joy among the converts, and a- wonderful mingling of sur- 
prise and delight among their pious friends. It was almost 
impossible to close the meeting. Ten o'clock was the hour 
set for the adjournment, but the hour of twelve found most of 
the people lingering in a place where they felt it good to be. 
Some of the inquirers refused to leave the ground, and prayer 
was made to God unceasingly for them until late in the after- 
noon, when, with trusting, joyful hearts and radiant counte- 
nances, they were ready to depart. 

That morning was nearest to the Pentecostal season of any 
time that has come within my experience. The revival differed 
so widely in its manifestations from such as I had known that I 
made special efforts to learn what were its abiding fruits. They 
were as excellent in quality as they were uncommon in the 
manner of their production. Most of the converts were bap- 



270 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

tized by the pastors in the vicinity of the camp. They were 
largely composed of the heads of families and persons of in- 
telligence, respectability, and influence in the community. I 
learned from various sources that they proved to be living, 
faithful, and valuable accessions to the churches. 

There were two lessons plainly taught by this extraordinary 
meeting. One was that we should not place in our evangeli- 
cal labors an undue reliance on human agency. Dr. Broaddus 
was endowed with most versatile and excellent gifts, and was 
peculiarly fitted to conduct the services of a camp-meeting; but 
the Lord showed us that his talents and influence were not 
essential to its success. The other was, that ministers should 
not be discouraged by adverse appearances when they are con- 
ducting religious services. There was much in the meeting 
referred to above to try the faith of the pious laborers. They 
preached the gospel to attentive hearers — so far as there was 
encouragement — but they seemed insensible, inaccessible, and 
remote from righteousness. In the very hour before the per- 
vasive and subduing power of the gospel became manifest the 
most sanguine of the brethren would have pronounced the 
meeting a comparative failure, and yet it was really one of the 
most, if it was not the most, successful of all the meetings that 
I have ever attended. ' ' In the morning sow thy seed, and in 
the evening withhold not thine hand ; for thou knowest not 
whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they shall 
both be alike good. ' ' 

I may mention another remarkable scene, which occurred a 
few years before the one described above. The Baptists of 
Caroline county held a camp-meeting, which was attended by 
Dr. W. F. Broaddus, myself, and other ministers. Nothing 
unusual occurred during its progress. The congregations were 
large and orderly, the preaching was earnest, and there was 
much religious feeling-, with not much visible fruit from the ser- 
vices. The attention and seriousness of the audience inspired 
the hope that the word preached was making a good impres- 
• sion. On the last evening of the meeting it was proposed that 
persons anxious on the subject of their salvation should occupy 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 271 

seats in front of the pulpit before the commencement of the ser- 
vices. Broaddus and myself retired to the forest for prayer. 
On our return, to our great surprise and joy, we found the 
designated seats crowded with inquirers, most of them young 
men. It was my lot to preach. As I now remember, my text 
was Rev. xxii. 17 : "The Spirit and the bride say, come," etc. 
Of the sermon I need only remark that it was delivered with 
freedom and earnestness. At its close a large gentleman, in 
the vigor of life, the husband of a pious sister, for whose salva- 
tion many prayers had been offered and many efforts put 
forth, came forward, uninvited, and, falling on his knees in 
front of the stand, cried out, with bitter weeping, ' ' Pray for 
me ! ' ' The effect of his conduct was thrilling. Everybody 
knew that he was sincere and moved by strong conviction. 
Saints and sinners were melted to tears, and there were sighs 
and sobs throughout the assembly. Broaddus was called on 
to pray. In all my life I have no recollection of having heard a 
prayer more tender, more comprehensive, and more moving 
than that which he offered. He seemed to be pleading with God 
face to face, and resolved to take no denial. When he closed 
his prayer the feelings of the congregation had been greatly 
intensified. There were not only sighs and weeping, but la- 
mentations and loud crying throughout the audience. 

Broaddus, who had great skill in conducting religious meet- 
ings, deemed it proper to check the noise and confusion in the 
assembly. In a very tender and gentle tone he insisted that 
religion is a reasonable thing — that the emotions must be sub- 
ordinate to the judgment, and that all excesses in the meeting 
should be avoided. While he was speaking in this conserva- 
tive strain, his son, a youth ripening into manhood, for whose 
salvation the father had cherished intense and almost despair- 
ing anxiety, all unconscious of the words of caution proceeding 
from the pulpit, pressed through the crowd and prostrated 
himself on the ground, not far from his father's feet, requesting 
most piteously that prayer should be made for him. It was 
not surprising that the astonished and delighted father forgot 
his own prudent cautions, and broke forth into louder demon- 



272 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

strations of feeling than any which had been previously heard 
on the ground — feelings in which the audience felt a profound 
sympathy. 

There is no telling where the excitement would have ended, 
had not a hasty shower dispersed the congregation. The reli- 
gious services were kept up in different tents till a late hour of 
the night. Had they not been interrupted at the stand they 
would probably have continued till the rising of the sun. Who 
but the heartless and the skeptical would have censured their 
continuance? Paul at Troas, in anticipation of leaving the 
brethren, preached till midnight ; and, after the death and re- 
storation to life of Eutychus, continued to talk ' c till the break 
of day. ' ' Was there imprudence in the continuance of the meet- 
ing ? Was it not a glorious occasion ? True, we did not have 
Paul to preach for us at the camp-meeting, but we had the 
gospel which he preached, were profoundly interested in the 
subjects which kept him awake during the night, and the occa- 
sion was little less interesting to us than was the departure of 
the apostle to the brethren at Troas. 

On the whole, the meeting, while it did not equal in interest 
and fruitfulness the camp-meeting in Culpeper, was pleasant 
and profitable, and afforded great cause of gratitude to God. 
Many have rejoiced to this day, and will rejoice through eter- 
nal ages, that it was held. 



LV. 

THE GREAT MASONIC EXCITEMENT. 

WHEN I was a boy the secrets of Masonry awakened 
much curiosity and led to many wild conjectures. Not 
a few people believed that Masons had intercourse with evil 
spirits, and multitudes suspected that their carefully preserved 
secrets must be intended to cover nefarious purposes. Some 
time about the year 1830 a man named Morgan, residing in 
Western New York, but, if I rightly remember, a native of 
Loudoun county, Va., undertook to divulge the secrets of 
Masonry. He wrote out, as he claimed, the signs and secrets 
of the first three degrees of the craft, and the work, printed 
in a small pamphlet, had a rapid and extensive circulation. 
In this he promised to make a full disclosure of the system. 
It produced, of course, an intense and general excitement. 
The Masons were filled with indignation, and others read the 
tract with the varied emotions of skepticism, amusement, and 
triumph. 

In a short time Morgan was abducted, carried to Canada ? 
and has not since been heard from. In a journey, some years 
since, I was driven by a coachman who told me that he was 
one of the stage-drivers that conveyed Morgan to the Canada 
border. His statements were minute and had verisimilitude, 
but I know not whether they were true. The abduction of 
Morgan greatly intensified the Masonic excitement. It was 
not merely a violation of law, but an attempt to suppress the 
freedom of speech, and an interference with personal liberty, 
as was supposed, by a secret and oath-bound society. The 
Masons were publicly charged with the crime. In a short while 
some of them were indicted, arrested, and brought to trial for 
participating in the abduction of Morgan. Many Masons were 
summoned as witnesses, and examined in court. This question 
was propounded to them : "Is there anything in the oaths and 



274 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

obligations of Masons inconsistent with their duties as Ameri- 
can citizens ? ' ' Some of the witnesses refused to answer the 
question, and were fined and imprisoned for contempt of court. 
Their course was approved, and their fines were promptly paid 
by the Masons of the country. Other witnesses affirmed that 
in their judgment, Masons were under no obligations to their 
fraternity not in harmony with their responsibilities as citizens. 
A few of the witnesses, however, testified that some of the obli- 
gations of Masons were in conflict with their duties to the State. 

This last class of witnesses were denounced by the Masons 
with great bitterness as perjurers and scoundrels. To vindi- 
cate themselves, the abused witnesses published what they 
affirmed was the oath taken by Royal Arch Masons. By this 
oath they bound themselves to keep the secrets of a brother, 
committed to them as such, "murder and treason not ex- 
cepted." It was promptly denied that there was any such 
clause in the oath of the Royal Arch degree. In the city of 
Boston eleven hundred Masons, many of them of the highest 
respectability, signed a document affirming that no such oath 
was taken by Royal Arch Masons. 

The unfortunate witnesses who had expressed the opinion 
that the obligations of Masons and of American citizens were 
in conflict were in danger of being overwhelmed in disgrace. 
To extricate themselves from their embarrassment they called 
a convention of Masons to meet in the town of Canandaigua, 
N. Y. They made an earnest appeal to their brethren to rescue 
them from undeserved reproach. They stated, in substance, 
that they were called in court to testify on oath concerning the 
obligations of Masonry ; that they found their oaths as Masons 
at variance ; that they deemed it their duty to be governed by 
their oaths as citizens rather than as Masons ; and that they 
relied on the honorable members of their fraternity for the vin- 
dication of their conduct. 

A large convention of Masons, from different portions of the 
country, assembled at the time and place appointed. They 
adopted resolutions fully justifying the statements and course 
of the accused witnesses. They formally renounced Masonry ; 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 275 

requested Rev. David Bernard to write an expose of the sys- 
tem. He was a Baptist minister of learning, piety, and high 
standing, who died a few years since, leaving behind him a 
spotless reputation. This request of the convention gave rise 
to "Bernard's Light on Masonry," an octavo volume of seve- 
ral hundred pages, claiming to be a full exposition of Masonry 
from its first to its last degree. The volume was republished 
a few years since in Cincinnati. 

The book has been discredited by some, because, according 
to his own confession, the author violated his solemn Masonic 
oaths. I do not propose to discuss the question of his guilt. 
I merely say that it is better to violate an improper oath than 
to keep it. An oath to do evil should be repented of and not 
observed. It would have been wiser for Herod to break his 
oath than to behead John the Baptist. The conspirators who 
bound themselves by an oath to take the life of Paul before 
they ate were laid under no obligation by their act to commit 
the murder. An oath may bind us to do what is right, or what 
has no moral character, but not to do what is wrong. Mr. 
Bernard deemed it right to violate his Masonic oaths, unwisely 
taken, to promote the public good. ' ' To his own Master he 
standeth or falleth." 

The Masonic excitement continued to spread, many Masons 
seceded from the society, and a still greater number, probably, 
declined attending the lodges. Opposition to Masonry became 
the nucleus of a political party. The Anti-Masons, as they 
were called, nominated Hon. William Wirt, of Baltimore, for 
the presidency. Among all the candidates for the office there 
has never been one more amiable, intelligent, disinterested, 
patriotic, and noble than Mr. Wirt; but he received only a 
small vote. The old political parties were too deeply rooted 
and pervasive to be set aside by a transient excitement. It was 
no reproach to Mr. Wirt that he was defeated in his candidacy, 
as men vote for a president, not on the ground of his intel- 
lectual or moral worth, but simply because of his party badge. 

Soon after the appearance of Bernard's book I visited Rev. 
Abner W. Clopton, of Charlotte. He was an intense Anti- 



276 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

Mason, and a voluntary agent for the sale of the book. He 
gave me a copy of it on condition that I would read it — a condi- 
tion with which, in its full sense, I did not comply. With the 
exception of the Koran and the Book of Mormon, it is among 
the most unreadable books through which I have attempted 
to wade. I examined it, however, far enough to discern the 
genius of Masonry as it is developed in its pages. While I was 
reading the book I visited a relative of mine, Colonel S. Bev- 
erly Jeter, who, in the days of staging and travelling by private 
conveyances, kept a large hotel in Nottoway county, on the 
highway from Petersburg to Raleigh, North Carolina. He 
was an enthusiastic Mason, having in his house a Masonic 
lodge and a Royal Arch chapter. I resolved to employ my 
knowledge of book Masonry to ascertain, so far as I might, in 
what measure it harmonized with the genuine Masonry of my 
relative. I threw into my conversations with him such scraps 
of Masonry as I could remember from my recent reading of 
Bernard's work. He took a great fancy to me, insisted on my 
preaching in his ball-room, gathered for me a large congrega- 
tion of his neighbors, and treated me with the utmost hospi- 
tality. On the morning that I departed from his house, un- 
willing to leave him under a deception, I said to him, "I am 
not a Mason." He drew back as if he had been electrified, 
saying : ' ' You are not a Mason ! It is 'the strangest thing that 
I have ever known. You have made a dozen remarks since 
you have been here from which any Mason would have inferred 
that you are a Mason. ' ' I did not feel called on to reveal to 
him the source of my remarks. My experiment had disclosed 
the fact that the Masonry of Bernard and that of my kinsman 
were closely allied. After years of inquiry and thought on the 
subject I reached the undoubting conclusion that "Bernard's 
Light on Masonry ' ' was a substantial revelation of the secrets 
and signs of Masonry as they were held and practiced in his 
time. What changes have been made in it since that period I 
know not. 

As the reader may desire to know my impressions on Ma- 
sonry, I will cheerfully give them. It is a self-protecting asso- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 277 

ciation, whose signs and secrets are limited to the means which 
they employ to know one another, and to guard against the 
intrusion of impostors. Every degree has its "peculiar symbols 
and signs by which a brother may reveal himself as a Mason of 
that degree. Masons are usually encouraged to take degree 
after degree, in the hope of finding some wonderful light in the 
higher orders of the system, but when they reach the highest 
degree it is to learn that there is nothing there. Masonry has 
many beautiful symbols and fine moral sentiments. No man 
can follow the principles and teachings of the system without 
being a moral and useful man. It is not a religion, nor a sub- 
stitute for it. Its aim is entirely secular. Its members are 
bound by frightful oaths to aid and support one another, and 
right faithfully do they in general fulfill their obligation. The 
system originated, as it is now conceded, in the dark, Middle 
Ages, among the stone masons who erected the great cathe- 
drals of Europe, and it has, doubtless, been modified from age 
to age, according to the necessities of the craft and the chang- 
ing tastes of the times. 

If asked how the statements of the seceding Masons can be 
reconciled with the testimony of the Boston Masons concerning 
the disputed clause in the oath of the Royal Arch degree, I can 
only say that it is probable that the oath was different in differ- 
ent chapters. It is impossible to suppose that so many respect- 
able persons testified falsely from so slight a motive on either 
side. Both parties are worthy of credit, and a variation in the 
terms of the oath fully explains the seeming contradiction. 

I am neither a Mason nor an Anti-Mason. If persons choose 
to become Masons, I know of no law by which they can be re- 
strained from following their inclination. That persons expect- 
ing to travel extensively may be benefited by connection with 
the craft I do not doubt. My objection to joining them is not 
that they have secrets, signs, symbols, and paraphernalia, but 
that their oaths, as reported by Bernard, are revolting to my 
feelings, and the name of Christ, through whom alone accepta- 
ble petitions can be presented to God, is carefully excluded 
from their formal and published prayers. 



LVI. 

DISTINGUISHED MINISTERS. 

OF the prominent Baptist ministers who were in active life 
when I entered the ministry, and who have ceased from 
their labors, I have written so much in one form and another 
that I could now do little more than repeat my impressions 
concerning them. I cannot attempt even a brief sketch of 
many whose piety, abilities, and labors entitle them to be held 
in lasting and grateful remembrance. The pen of Dr. James 
B. Taylor has furnished biographies of many of them, and he 
himself has received a handsome memorial at the hand of his 
son, Dr. George B. Taylor. I have concluded to omit my re- 
collections of the devout Abner W. Clopton, the eloquent Ed- 
ward Baptist, the wise and practical Robert B. Semple, the 
logical Thornton Stringfellow, the indefatigable Luther Rice, 
the sensible O. B. Brown, and many others whom I need not 
mention, and confine my remarks to two ministers of rare tal- 
ents and of great popularity and influence in their day. 

ANDREW BROADDUS, OF CAROLINE. 

I had heard him when I was quite young as a preacher of 
surpassing eloquence. One object of my visit to this city in 
1823 was to hear this distinguished orator. It was quite a dis- 
appointment to me that he was not at the meeting which organ- 
ized the Baptist General Association of Virginia. I first heard 
him in August of that year at Upper King and Queen meeting- 
house, in King and Queen county. It was the place of the as- 
sembling of a flourishing church in his neighborhood, of which 
he was afterwards, if he was not then, pastor. He did not 
preach, but concluded the services after some other brother — I 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 279 

think the late Dr. Witt — had preached. He commenced by 
reading the beautiful hymn of Medley : 

"Mortals, awake, with angels join, 
And chant the solemn lay." 

There was a peculiar melody in his voice. It was clear, soft, 
flexible, plaintive. I had never before listened to such reading. 
As he proceeded his countenance was lighted up with celestial 
ardor and his voice became more and more charming. When 
he reached the third stanza, 

" Swift through the vast expanse it flew, 
And loud the echo rolled ; 
The theme, the song, the joy was new, 
'Twas more than heaven could hold," 

it really seemed to me that I could see the glad tidings, a mys- 
terious mist, breaking over the battlements of heaven. As he 
continued the rapturous strain, 

" Down through the portals of the sky 
Th' impetuous torrent ran ; 
And angels flew with eager joy 
To bear the news to man," 

the effect was almost overpowering. The whole audience was 
thrilled, electrified, transported. 

I have heard many excellent hymn readers. Rice repeated 
hymns with inimitable simplicity. Spurgeon is a fine hymn 
reader. When tested by scholastic rules their reading might 
have been more accurate than that of Broaddus, but there was 
a pathos, a fascination in his reading which set all rules at defi- 
ance. His hearers did not care a straw whether his reading 
was accurate or inaccurate; they were charmed, impressed, de- 
lighted, and that was enough for them. The late Henry Keel- 
ing, himself a man of learning and taste, said that he would 
rather hear Andrew Broaddus read a hymn than to hear any 
other minister preach. I certainly preferred his reading of a 
hymn to the sermons of many preachers. 

I was quite intimately acquainted with Broaddus for more 



280 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

than twenty-five years. I heard him preach frequently under 
a great variety of circumstances, and it is my deliberate opinion 
that he was one of the most polished, eloquent, instructive, and 
attractive preachers that I have ever heard. His success in 
preaching depended largely on his frame of mind and his sur- 
roundings. He was very liable to fail in his sermons, but his 
failures were more instructive than the successes of other min- 
isters. When his health, the weather, the pulpit, the congre- 
gation, the surroundings were all favorable, his preaching was 
absolutely entrancing. It was impossible not to listen, and 
listening, not to be absorbed in the discourse. I will mention 
a few facts illustrative of his pulpit power. 

He preached the introductory sermon before the General As- 
sociation at its first anniversary in Lynchburg, in 1824. His 
text, if I rightly remember, was Eph. iii: 8: "Unto me, who 
am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I 
should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of 
Christ." It was the first time that I heard him preach. I re- 
collect the effect of the sermon better than the sermon itself. A 
subject in which I was deeply interested was occupying my 
thoughts. So completely was my mind absorbed by the dis- 
course that I heard it without a wandering thought, and was 
amazed, at its conclusion, that the subject in which I had been 
so profoundly concerned had been entirely banished from my 
mind. 

On the following Monday he preached a sermon in the 
Methodist church. A distinguished lawyer of the town, pass- 
ing by its window on his way to the court-house, stopped a 
moment to hear what was passing. He heard Broaddus com- 
mence his sermon, and although he was standing under the 
burning rays of the sun, had important business demanding his 
attention at court, and heard the sheriff again and again calling 
his name vociferously, he did not move from his position till 
the close of the sermon released him from the fascination of the 
preacher. 

As an expositor of the Scriptures, Broaddus was unrivalled. 
His preaching was mostly of the expository kind. He had a 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 281 

wonderful power of presenting in a vivid light the meaning of 
riis text, with all its latent beauties and all its logical conse- 
quences. He had a brilliant imagination, but it was severely 
chastened and perfectly controlled by his judgment. Of all the 
preachers I have heard, and I have heard many, his sermons 
made the most distinct and abiding impression. I never lis- 
tened to him without feeling that I had made his sermon my 
own. After the lapse of fifty years I have a distinct recollec- 
tion of the outlines and some of the beautiful illustrations of his 
sermons. 

One of these illustrations, just now occurring to my mind, I 
will state. He was speaking of the Messianic predictions. The 
first of the prophets drew a dim outline of the Messiah. From 
age to age they wrought at the picture. They added line after 
line, feature after feature, and tint after tint, until the perfected 
picture stood in bold relief before the observer. Being himself 
no mean artist, Broaddus drew the picture with consummate 
skill. It was suspended in the face of the world to await the 
coming of the Messiah. When Jesus of Nazareth appeared 
the picture bore an exact resemblance to him. He was the un- 
doubted original. It was impossible to compare the prophetic 
portrait and the man of Nazareth and not be convinced of his 
claim to the Messiahship. 

In gestures Broaddus, when at his ease, excelled any preacher 
that I have known. He was tall and well proportioned in per- 
son, of handsome features, and in his latter years of venerable 
appearance, and it seemed impossible for him to make an awk- 
ward gesture. If he had attempted an imitation of the gro- 
tesque he would have done it in a manner so easy and graceful 
as to command admiration. His action in speaking was ex- 
ceedingly appropriate and expressive. It must be conceded, 
however, that he was somewhat fastidious in his manner. He 
never forgot it — never lost himself in his theme — an oblivious- 
ness essential to the highest effect of oratory. This undue par- 
ticularity was strikingly described by "Father Schools," an 
old and eccentric man, remarkable for the bluntness of his 
manner and the quaintness of his remarks. After listening to 



282 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

a sermon, he said to him: "Brother Broaddus, you were so 
long setting the table and fixing the plates, knives, and forks 
that we got tired of waiting for the dinner. ' ' 

Broaddus was never designed to be a leader. He was easily 
led by persons far less intelligent and sound in judgment than 
he was himself. On religious doctrine he was firmly posted. 
He was what might be called a moderate Calvinist, and he 
could defend his views with remarkable clearness and force. 
In practical matters, however, he was timid, hesitating, and 
ready to follow a self-confident leader. This infirmity was of 
little moment while his intimate friend, Robert B. Semple, 
lived. He possessed in an eminent degree the qualities which 
Broaddus lacked. He was wise in counsel, firm in purpose — 
a predestined leader — and Broaddus loved him as a brother 
and followed him as a father. 

On the whole, Broaddus had more genius than any minister 
with whom I have been acquainted. With very slender op- 
portunities for improvement, and residing in a community 
which made but slight demand on his intellectual resources, he 
became a really great man. He would have been distinguished 
in any age, in any community, and in any profession. He was 
a respectable scholar, no mean portrait painter, had a rare gift 
for poetry, was a writer equally distinguished for the beauty of 
his style and the force of his reasoning, was a sermonizer of 
unusual capacity for unfolding the meaning of the Scriptures, 
and an orator of almost unrivalled power to interest and delight 
his hearers. Nothing but his modesty and shrinking timidity 
prevented him from occupying, as he was repeatedly invited to 
do, the most prominent Baptist pulpits of America. 

To show that my estimate of the talents of Broaddus is not 
singular, I will mention a fact. When I had completed the 
above sketch, I met the Hon. JR. M. T. Hunter, long a promi- 
nent member of the United States Senate from Virginia, whose 
home was in the neighborhood of that of Broaddus. I asked 
him for his estimate of Broaddus as an orator. He stated that 
,. he considered him the greatest speaker that he had ever heard. 
He was liable to make failures, but in his best mood for speak- 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 283 

ing he excelled all the orators whom he had ever known. This 
is high testimony. Mr. Hunter is himself an orator of national 
reputation. He was for years the companion, if he was not 
the peer, of Webster, Clay, and Calhoun, and has enjoyed the 
opportunity of hearing the most distinguished orators of the 
country, with many from abroad, in the pulpit, the bar, and the 
forum, and he did not hesitate to pronounce Broaddus the- 
finest speaker of them all. 



LVII. 

RE V. JOHN KERR. 

DURING the first third of the present century Kerr stood 
alone among the Baptist preachers of Virginia — indeed, 
among all the preachers of all denominations that I heard 
preach — in his power to command the attention and move the 
passions of large, promiscuous audiences. I was almost ashamed 
to express my opinion of his abilities, lest I should be suspected 
of having a partial and extravagant judgment, until conversing 
with the late learned Dr. Hooper, of North Carolina, I found 
that he entertained the same opinion and felt a similar embar- 
rassment in giving utterance to it. At all our Baptist Asso- 
ciations in Virginia he preached the third sermon, in uninter- 
mitted succession, on Lord's day. It was the post of honor, 
but difficult to fill, as the congregation was wearied by the two 
preceding discourses. To preach before Kerr did was unpleas- 
ant, as all were anxiously waiting to hear him ; and to preach 
after him was simply impossible. I first heard him preach at 
the Dover Association with Alexander Campbell on the same 
day, from the same stand, and to the same audience. Campbell 
preached first, a long sermon, and my mind was so preoccupied 
with his novel views and manner of preaching that I heard Kerr 
at great disadvantage. His discourse seemed to me to be light 
and declamatory, but it produced a powerful impression on the 
hearers. I afterwards heard him preach frequently, and under 
a great variety of circumstances, and if I did not form a correct 
estimate of his abilities it was not from lack of opportunities for 
doing so, but from a defect in my judgment. 

When I first saw Kerr" he was about forty-five years old and 
in fine health. In personal appearance he was a man of a thou- 
sand. It would scarcely have been possible for him to appear 
in the most select assembly without attracting special attention. 
He was about the ordinary height, but much above the average 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 285 

weight of men. . He was symmetrically formed, neat in person, 
and graceful in carriage. He had such a head as Michael An- 
gelo would have delighted to copy, and in the highest efforts 
of his genius could scarcely have excelled. It was bald, with 
the hair from the sides carefully combed up and knotted on the 
top. His eyes were keen as those of an eagle, but partially 
concealed by unusually thick, long, and overhanging eye- 
brows. His nose was rather disproportionately large, slightly 
aquiline, well suited for receiving snuff, with which, according 
to the custom of the day, it was usually abundantly supplied. 
His countenance was bright, mild, and benignant, with a com- 
manding aspect, which clearly indicated that undue familiarity 
with its possessor should be avoided. In dress he was neat 
and stylish, but not fastidious. 

Kerr's early education was quite defective. Brought up in 
a rural district of North Carolina, he had all the advantages of 
instruction afforded by the neighboring schools, which was 
limited in those days to reading, writing, and arithmetic. I 
do not suppose that he ever studied grammar. To him the 
arts and sciences never opened their inestimable treasures. He 
made no pretension to scholarship. His reading and studies 
were desultory and quite limited, but possessing an active and 
observant mind, he gathered a good stock of general and use- 
ful knowledge. He was a man of thought and action rather 
than of books. His views of Divine truth were in harmony 
with those of his denomination and of the evangelical Chris- 
tians around him. He adopted the opinions advocated by An- 
drew Fuller before his works were known on this side of the 
Atlantic. Kerr was strongly opposed to hyper- Calvinism, 
and frequently turned against it the withering force of his logic 
and sarcasm. With Baptists opposed to liberal and systematic 
efforts for the spread of the gospel he had little patience, and 
occasionally subjected them to sharp ridicule. As an ex- 
pounder of the Scriptures he was fanciful, indulging in the prac- 
tice common in his day of spiritualizing his texts — a method of 
interpretation commenced, or at least employed, by the dis- 
tinguished Origen in the third century, and which has been 



■286 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

adopted by many learned men, in different ages and countries, 
among whom may be named the eminent Baptist commentator, 
Dr. Gill. As a logician Kerr had no great skill. He thought 
clearly and reasoned soundly, but paid no attention to dialec- 
tics. In sermonizing, according to the modern standard, he 
did not excel. His sermons were mostly expository, discur- 
sive, and with little method. His preaching was largely ex- 
tempore. He had a train of thought in his mind when he 
commenced speaking, but so great was its fruitfulness, and so 
ardent was his imagination, that he was liable to be diverted 
from it into new fields of discussion. 

Kerr was a preacher — a most extraordinary one — and not 
much else. As a constant preacher he was not remarkable. 
His stock of information was too limited, and he was too little 
devoted to study, to enable him to interest and instruct an in- 
telligent congregation through many successive years. It was 
hardly possible for his pulpit powers to be fully displayed in a 
house. That they might appear to the best advantage it was 
necessary that he should preach in the open air, in mild weath- 
er, under a natural or artificial shade, and before a vast congre- 
gation, which no ordinary voice could command. 

Let us contemplate the scene. He rises slowly, and calmly 
looks over the sea of upturned faces. His appearance com- 
mands immediate attention. He reads his hymn with a clear, 
distinct, slow, and solemn voice. Every ear is attentive, and 
all but the deaf hear. By the time the introductory services 
are ended the audience is quiet, serious, and attentive. His 
text is quite likely to be a sublime passage from the Old or 
New Testament — like Ex. xxxiv : 6, 7 ; Isa. vi : 1-5 ; Rev. i : 
17-20, &c. He commences his sermon with great deliberation. 
Every word is distinctly uttered ; every sentence has a clear 
meaning. As he advances in his discourse his countenance 
brightens, his eyes sparkle, his gestures become more earnest, 
but not extravagant, his thoughts glow, his style is increasingly 
free, vigorous, and brilliant, and he is more and more absorbed 
in his subject. If he describes the crucifixion of Christ, the 
general judgment, or the happiness of heaven, he seems to 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 287 

speak from actual observation, and is as much impressed by 
the scenes as any of his hearers. He never loses his self-con- 
trol, and never, by the intensity of his feelings, his hold of his 
theme. 

At the end of two hours he closes his sermon. Let us now 
take a survey of his audience. They are standing around the 
pulpit as closely as they can be packed, every face is bathed in 
tears, and many of the hearers can give no account of the time 
or the manner of leaving their seats. They were entranced, 
were afraid of losing a word from the speaker's lips, and that 
is all they know of the matter. The impression is not confined 
to the ignorant and emotional. A judge having important 
business on hand consents to hear him for fifteen minutes, to 
notice his style of speaking, and at the end of two hours is sur- 
prised to find that he has been detained beyond his appointed 
'time. A skeptical young man — rich, proud, and thoughtless — 
goes near the pulpit to demonstrate that he can hear the orator 
without weeping, and after resisting his feeling for a time drops 
his head and sobs aloud. Cultivated men, unwilling to weep 
in public, avoid hearing him preach. 

It is difficult to define the secret of Kerr's pulpit power. It 
was not learning, nor logic, nor the truth which he preached, 
important as that was, nor his voice, nor his gestures, but it 
was an indescribable pathos, an overwhelming tornado, in 
which all his powers played their appropriate parts. It was 
easy to criticise his style, his reasoning, his taste, and especially 
his expositions of Scripture, but, as Dr. Hooper said, after lis- 
tening to one of his entrancing discourses, any man would have 
been ashamed to criticise such a sermon. 

Luther Rice used to say : ' ' He is the greatest preacher who 
does the most good." Judged by this standard, Kerr was a 
great preacher. I have no means of estimating the fruits of 
his ministry. I know, however, that the success of his preach- 
ing in Richmond, and in many other places, was marked. 
Hundreds were converted by his itinerant and desultory labors, 
to say nothing of the results of his regular ministrations. He 
possessed eminent gifts for protracted meeting labors. They 



288 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

came into use in the latter part of his life, but rarely called his 
powers into exercise. Had he devoted his life to evangelical 
labors, as do Moody and other evangelists, he would, accord- 
ing to human judgment, have turned the world upside down. 

As Broaddus and Kerr were the most distinguished Baptist 
ministers of Virginia in the early part of this century, the reader 
may desire to see a comparison of them. In many respects 
they were singularly unlike each other. Broaddus was the 
greater genius of the two. He was an orator, a theologian, a 
poet, a writer, a man of exquisite taste. Kerr was the greater 
orator. He was a born orator. He excelled in nothing but 
public speaking, and in that he was unrivalled. As a preacher, 
Broaddus was more instructive and charming ; Kerr was more 
commanding and impressive. In preaching, Broaddus rarely 
or never forgot himself — his voice, gestures, style, and the 
arrangement of his thoughts received the strictest attention ; 
Kerr was lost and transported by his theme. Broaddus had 
more culture ; Kerr more readiness in extempore speaking. 
As a constant preacher, Broaddus excelled. His sermons 
were always full of thought, carefully drawn from the sacred 
Scriptures. Kerr succeeded better as an occasional or an itin- 
erant preacher. In a large, promiscuous assembly in Virginia, 
nine out of ten of the hearers would have preferred the preach- 
ing of Kerr, but the remaining tenth would have contained 
a large proportion of the more cultivated and refined audi- 
tors. Had the trial been made in the best-informed city con- 
gregations the proportion would have been greatly changed. 
Broaddus moulded public sentiment ; Kerr gave it power and 
influence. Broaddus w r as the Cicero and Kerr was the Demos- 
thenes among modern orators. We have ministers in the pres- 
ent day who excel them in learning, hermeneutics, theology, 
homiletics, and the like — all of great importance in the minis- 
try — but in the power to interest, command, fascinate, move, 
and melt promiscuous congregations, I know not the peers of 
Broaddus and Kerr. I must add, for the encouragement of 
my brethren in the ministry, that many preachers of far inferior 
talents have done much more by the diligent employment of 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 289 

their gifts to build up and establish Baptist churches than did 
either of the eloquent ministers who attracted so much attention 
and gained so much applause. 

I am convinced, by long-continued observation, that orators, 
like poets, are born, not made. Study and practice may make 
an eloquent speaker, a logician, a sound instructor, but no 
measure of study and instruction can make an orator of one 
who has not a natural aptitude for public speaking. The gift 
may be greatly improved by study and instruction, but where 
it is possessed of a high quality it will display its power in spite 
of all the disadvantages of the lack of culture and of favorable 
opportunities for its exercise. Kerr would have been an orator 
had he been a blacksmith, a ditcher, or an ostler. 



LVIII. 

. REMOVAL TO ST. LOUIS. 

IN the year 1849 I went to this city and took charge of the 
Second, then the only white Baptist church in the place. 
Its pulpit had been rendered vacant by the removal of Rev. S. 
W. Lynd to the Theological Seminary, then recently estab- 
lished in Covington, Kentucky. St. Louis had just been fear- 
fully scourged by the prevalence of cholera. The epidemic 
caused a general panic, drove most of the people from their 
homes, and sent several thousands of them to untimely graves. 
I was prevented for some time from entering on my pastoral 
labors by the scourge, and when I commenced them the dis- 
ease was still lingering in the city. The church, reduced in 
number, contained about two hundred and seventy-five mem- 
bers. Among these were many brethren of intelligence, piety, 
great devotion to the interests of the church, and prosperous 
in business, if not rich. It was in some respects one of the 
best churches that I have known. It had recently completed 
a house of worship — then one of the finest in the city — and its 
members evinced a praiseworthy liberality in the cause of 
Christ. My first sermon was preached to a good congrega- 
tion in October, 1849, from Col. i : 29 : "Whom we preach, 
warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom, 
that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." I 
endeavored to present the theme, the manner, and the end of 
the apostolic ministry as an example for my imitation while I 
should labor among them. 

There were peculiar difficulties to be encountered in my new 
field of labor — difficulties which, I presume, all pastors in that 
and similar spheres of activity have experienced. The church 
was composed of heterogeneous materials. Few of them had 
been converted and baptized in the city. They were immi- 
grants from England, Scotland, and Wales, and from almost 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 291 

every State of the Union. They had their peculiar views of 
preaching, music, the manner of conducting public worship, 
church discipline, &c, and these were as various as were the 
tastes and training of the people in the several regions from 
which the members came. It was almost impossible to say, do, 
or propose anything which would secure universal approbation. 
This diversity, however, led to great liberality and forbearance 
among the brethren. There was a commendable readiness to 
yield to the decision of the majority, but unfortunately this sub- 
mission did not include a hearty assent to that judgment. Had 
the members of the church been of harmonious views and aims 
it would have been of almost unequalled efficiency. 

A greater diversity of views on religious subjects prevailed 
without than within the church. A large portion of the popu- 
lation was European, fully imbued with the spirit of skepticism. 
In preaching to them nothing could be taken for granted. The' 
inspiration of the Scriptures, moral responsibility, the existence 
of God and of a future state, and even the depravity of human 
nature, were by many boldly denied or artfully called in ques- 
tion. 

As there were unusual obstacles to overcome, so there were 
extraordinary incitements to activity in this new sphere of toil. 
The rapid increase of the population, the spirit of inquiry and. 
self-reliance engendered by freedom from ancient opinions andi 
customs, the constant conflict of discordant views, and the cer- 
tainty that the people of St. Louis must eventually exert a 
moulding influence over the religious faith and character of 
millions of inhabitants in the great Mississippi Valley, were well 
suited to impress on the heart of a minister the transcendent 
importance of his work. He seemed to be sowing seed that 
would increase, not merely a hundred, but more than a thou- 
sand-fold. It was impossible to live in such a city without im- 
bibing its spirit of enterprise, hopefulness, and perseverance, 
and this spirit was as fruitful in religious as in secular pursuits. 

My aim from the beginning of my labors in St. Louis was 
not chiefly to gather a large church, but to multiply through- 
out the city agencies for its evangelization. In this aim many 



292 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

members of the church heartily sympathized with me. Ar- 
rangements were soon made for the support of two ministers 
for a period of three years. One-half of this amount was sub- 
scribed by the members of the church, and the other half by 
the Boards of the Baptist General Association of Missouri and 
of the Southern Baptist Convention. To co-operate with these 
ministers it was proposed to organize two churches from mem- 
bers dismissed from the Second church and such unassociated 
Baptists as could be found in the city. Two noble bands of 
brethren and sisters went out from the Second church. One 
formed the Third Baptist church, in the western part of the 
city, and the other, Zion (now the Fourth) Baptist 'church, 
in North St. Louis. The next step was to secure pastors 
for these infant churches. Rev. Joseph Walker, of Virginia, 
became the pastor of the Third, and I. E. Owen, from the 
Theological Seminary at Covington, the pastor of Zion, or the 
Fourth church. I need not attempt to give the history of 
these churches. They lived, grew, and are now strong and 
flourishing. 

The plan of sending out colonies from the church under my 
charge produced a result which I had not anticipated. The 
members who went out to organize the new churches were 
those most in harmony with my views and most readily influ- 
enced by my counsels. My position in the Second church was 
weakened by the measure. The restless, discordant members 
remained, and rendered my situation for a time unpleasant. I 
received no discourtesy worth noticing from any member of 
the church, but some of them were dissatisfied with my minis- 
try. They were not nourished by it. They had been used 
to a different kind of food. I did not blame them for their 
taste. I was deeply conscious of the imperfection of my min- 
istry, and would gladly have made it more instructive and 
profitable. In a short time a way of deliverance from this em- 
barrassment was suggested. It was proposed to erect a new 
house of worship in an inviting and growing part of the city, 
that the church should be divided, and that I might choose 
whether I would go to the new or remain in the old house with 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 293 

the members who wished to continue under my ministry. The 
scheme was not fully matured, but awakened great interest, 
met with general approbation, and certainly opened an encour- 
aging prospect for the Baptists of St. Louis. 

The Lord, however, had another purpose concerning my 
labors. The health of my wife declined. The climate was 
supposed to be unfavorable to it. She was intensely anxious 
to return to her native State. I did not myself believe that the 
climate was unpropitious to her health, but I was unwilling to 
assume the responsibility of retaining her where she and some of 
her medical advisers thought her life was imperilled. I seemed 
shut up by divine providence to the necessity of changing my 
climate. On my visiting Richmond, the pulpit of the Grace- 
street Baptist church being vacant by the resignation of Dr. 
Kingsford, I was called to occupy it. Attending the session of 
the General Association, held in Norfolk about this time, I was 
welcomed with such cordiality and received such proofs of the 
general desire of the Baptists for my return to the State that I 
yielded a reluctant compliance with the call of the Grace-street 
church. 

In the summer of 1852 I returned to St. Louis to dissolve 
my relation with the church and make arrangements for my 
return to Virginia. In some respects the change was pleasant. 
I had not been long enough absent from Richmond to weaken 
the bonds which bound me to the brethren there. Among 
them I knew I should find more congenial society and a less 
difficult field of labor. Still the change was a painful one. I 
had formed many dear friendships in St. Louis. It was indeed 
a difficult field of labor, but one of surpassing interest and 
promise. My prospect for usefulness was never more cheering 
than in the hour when I was called to leave it. With a great 
struggle and a heavy heart I left the growing emporium of what 
was then the West. to return to the quiet city of Richmond. 

In reviewing my life in the West, after the lapse of nearly 
thirty years, I may be indulged in a few remarks. I seriously 
question whether any portion of it of equal length has been so 
useful as that which I spent in St. Louis. While there I bap- 



294 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

tized probably one hundred and fifty persons, many of whom 
became valuable church members. - The Second church was 
about as strong when I resigned as it was when I assumed its 
pastorate. The organization of the Third and Fourth churches 
marked an era in the progress of the St. Louis Baptists. The 
First church had been merged into the Second, and this stood 
alone until the organization of the Third and Fourth. 

In one respect I was greatly disappointed in my settlement 
in St. Louis. Judging from its size and commercial prosperity, 
I supposed that it wielded a religious influence in Missouri like 
that which Richmond exerted in Virginia. In this I was quite 
mistaken. The influence of the St. Louis Baptists in the State 
when I resided there was very inconsiderable. It was not the 
seat of any of the denominational boards. The Western Watch- 
man, a Baptist paper, was published there, but its circulation 
was limited and its influence feeble. Besides, there was, if I did 
not misinterpret the signs, a prejudice among the country 
brethren against metropolitan influence — a prejudice which has 
by no means been restricted to Missouri Baptists. 

On the whole, I deem it a fortunate event in my life that I 
lived in St. Louis. It gave me a knowledge of mankind which 
otherwise I should not have acquired. It taught me the neces- 
sity of self-reliance — a virtue for the cultivation of which my 
circumstances had been previously unfavorable. My intimate 
intercourse with brethren of widely different views corrected 
many of the stereotyped notions derived from my early train- 
ing. I was especially favored in returning to my native State 
before there had been any material change of my tastes, habits, 
and opinions, rendering me uncongenial with my early com- 
panions and diminishing my power to do them good. I have 
known several instances of ministers returning to their old fields 
of labor after many years of absence to find that their influence 
was gone and their prospects of usefulness sadly beclouded. 
By the good providence of God I was restored to my early 
field of labor in time to retain the influence which I had se- 
cured by nearly thirty years' labor in it. 



LIX. 

SPIRITISM. 

[USE the term ' c Spiritism " to denote a class of phenomena 
which was common and excited great interest in St. Louis 
when I resided there, without vouching for the correctness of 
the term. About this time the Misses Fox, of Rochester, New 
York, caused great excitement in the country by claiming that 
they held intercourse with disembodied spirits. They, or some 
persons adopting their views and practicing their arts, came to 
St. Louis, exhibited their skill, attracted great crowds, and 
made many converts to their faith. In a short time the whole 
city was filled with experiments in spiritism. It was soon dis- 
covered that the Foxes and their associates were not the only 
spiritual mediums. Many persons found, or supposed they 
found, that by certain manipulations they could have commu- 
nications with invisible spirits. The subject caused a great stir, 
and was the incessant theme of earnest discussion in the city. 

I was incredulous concerning these manifestations, and sup- 
posed they were the result of collusion or of excited imagina- 
tions, and gave free utterance to my incredulity. A venerable 
brother, .a distinguished physician of the city, said to me : 
"Beware how you speak on the subject. It is a question of 
testimony. Christianity is based on testimony. If you over- 
throw the laws of testimony you subvert Christianity. ' ' I was 
impressed with the soundness of his remarks, and resolved to 
investigate spiritism. 

Arrangements were made for this purpose at the house of my 
friend, Dr. Coons, who was intensely skeptical about the claims 
of spiritism,' and quite confident that he could expose the delu- 
sion. The medium selected for the occasion was a respectable 
young lawyer, recently from Virginia. About a dozen per- 
sons, all as incredulous as were the doctor and myself concern- 
ing spiritism, were present by invitation. A small table was 



296 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

placed in the room. The medium and three or four other per- 
sons placed their hands on it. After sitting awhile the medium 
said : "If there is a spirit present, will it move the table ? ' ' 
The table was gently moved. He continued : ' ' If the spirit will 
spell out its name as I call over the alphabet, let it move the 
table." The table was again moved. By the usual process in 
such exhibitions, the name Harriet Coons was spelt. It was 
the name of an infant which had died a few weeks before in that 
very room. The unexpected revelation deeply affected the 
doctor and his wife, by reminding them of their recent bereave- 
ment, and made it desirable to call for some other spirit. The 
medium said : "If there is another spirit present, will it move 
the table ? ' ' Instantly the table was moved. All whose hands 
were on it testified that it moved much more strongly than it 
did before. By the usual process the name of Georgia Ficklin 
was spelt. The real or supposed spirit indicated a desire to 
communicate with Mrs. Coons. The following sentence was 
addressed to her : ' ' Grieve not ; }^our sister and children are 
happy." 

In this communication several things were worthy of special 
notice. Georgia Ficklin was a sister of Mrs. Coons, who, six 
months before this time, had died in this room. Supposing 
that the departed had been able to communicate with her sister, 
it is not possible to conceive a more appropriate and comfort- 
ing message than the one delivered. There were two remark- 
able facts connected with it. When the communication had 
reached the point, ' ' Grieve not ; your sister and chi — , ' ' the 
medium said : " Is it child you wish to spell ? If so, move the 
table." There was no movement. The alphabet was called 
over, and children was spelt out. It then occurred to Dr. 
Coons and his wife that they had lost another child — an in- 
fant — in Fredericksburg some years before — an event of which 
they had been entirely- oblivious till the word "children" 
was spelt; and the event was certainly unknown to the ope- 
rator. The other was this : The doctor and his wife stated 
that the name ' ' Georgia ' ' was misspelt — that the family spelt 
it Georgey. A sister, near the age of the deceased, who 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 297 

was intimately acquainted with her, replied : " No ! my sister 
always insisted that Georgia was the proper way to spell her 
name." 

Whence the message came I know not, but I am quite sure 
that there was no collusion or fraud in the case. The persons 
engaged in the experiment were above all suspicion. The 
medium declared, and there was every reason to believe his 
statement, that he knew nothing of the departed whose names 
were spelt out. It was perfectly clear that he aimed to put 
child instead of children in the message. I sat by the table, 
held it, and watched carefully, and with skeptical eyes, every 
movement of the whole process, and I could discern not the 
slightest evidence of trickery. 

Had this been a solitary case, I might have concluded that 
the persons engaged in it were laboring under a strange hallu- 
cination, or that there was some deep-laid scheme of deception, 
practiced without any hope of reward or even of amusement. 
The case, however, did not stand alone. Throughout the city, 
among all classes of society and persons of all religious per- 
suasions, and infidels as well, similar experiments were made, 
with like and even more remarkable results. One of these 
cases I may mention. A lady of high character and social 
position, a member of the church of which I was pastor, deli- 
cate and feeble, found by some experiments that she was a 
medium. Laying her hand on a large centre- table, it would 
follow her around the room, by the mere exercise of her will, 
with a force which none could resist. A gentleman who de- 
nounced all these manifestations as delusions or frauds was 
called in to hold the table. By no force except that exerted by 
the laying of the hand of a feeble woman on its top, the table 
dragged the strong man around the room as if he had been a 
mere toy. He told me himself that he bruised his hands in his 
unavailing efforts to arrest the movement of the table. He 
added: "It is nothing but electricity." I mention this case 
because it was simply a physical manifestation, and to be judged 
of by the exercise of the senses. The incredulity that would 
set it aside would subvert all testimony, all history, and all faith. 



298 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

These physical effects were generally connected with intelligent 
communications. 

I was compelled, as a minister of the gospel, to investigate 
•the moral bearing of these phenomena. Several well-informed 
and respectable members of the church under my charge be- 
came spiritualists. They not only accepted these manifestations 
as the work of spirits, but believed that they were adapted to 
shed great light on the condition, duties, and destinies of men. 
Their evident tendency was to subvert Christianity. After 
much inquiry on the subject, I reached and published the fol- 
lowing conclusions : 

1. There is no proof that any of these communications come 
from spirits. They may result from physiological or psycho- 
logical laws not yet understood. In support 'of this theory, 
plausible arguments have been adduced. 

2. If these communications come from spirits, it is clear that 
many of them were ignorant and evil spirits. Some of their 
messages are puerile, false, impure, and blasphemous. 

3. If these manifestations are from spirits, there is no certain 
proof that any of them are from good spirits. Some of the 
messages are good in themselves — as that addressed to Mrs. 
Coons — but as bad men use fair words to deceive the simple, 
how can we know that evil spirits do not resort to a similar 
artifice to effect their wicked purposes ? 

4. Could it be proved that some of these messages are sent 
by good spirits, what evidence should we have of their capacity 
to instruct us ? The supposition that all good spirits are wise 
is perfectly gratuitous. It is supported neither by analogy nor 
revelation. It is more probable that they exist with every de- 
gree of intellectual compass and intelligence, from that of the 
tender infant to the shining cherub. Diversity is one of nature' s 
great laws. 

Lastly, could it be shown that some of these communications 
proceed from spirits holy, good, and wise, it may well be main- 
tained that we do not need their instruction. We have a rev- 
elation from the infinite Spirit, authenticated by prophecies 
fulfilled, miracles confirmed by trustworthy testimony, and 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 299 

fruits of piety constantly before our eyes. The Scriptures are 
able to make us wise unto salvation, and wiser we need not be. 
If spirits teach what is in harmony with the Scriptures, their 
ministry may be dispensed with. If an angel from heaven 
preach any other gospel than that preached by Christ, and 
communicated by him to the apostles, let him be accursed. 

By such arguments I endeavored to arrest the tide of spirit- 
ism. To deny the reality of the phenomena bearing that name 
would have been to subject myself to the scorn and derision of 
the intelligent observers in St. Louis. Like many other ex- 
citements which seemed to threaten the foundations of Chris- 
tianity, it has, in a great measure, passed away. It is not a 
religion. It cannot by any ingenuity be manufactured into a 
religion. Admitting that these strange manifestations are from 
spirits, good and bad, they tend, upon due consideration, 
strongly to confirm Christianity. That there are such spirits 
exerting, in ways unknown to us, a mighty influence on the 
affairs of men, is the plain teaching of revelation. Would it 
be wonderful if, in the present as in the past, these invisible and 
active agents should sometimes pass the boundaries which com- 
monly separate the spiritual and the material ? In this matter, 
as in all others, true wisdom lies in maintaining an inquiring" 
and an independent spirit, receiving no facts not confirmed by 
clear and honest testimony, and adopting no theory except 
upon a broad and careful collation of facts. Of the reality of 
these manifestations I have no question, and could have none 
without renouncing the evidence of my senses and the dictates 
of my understanding, which God has given me for my guidance 
in life ; but they have not been observed by me on a scale suffi- 
ciently wide, and with a care sufficiently accurate, to justify me 
in adopting a theory concerning them. I wait, as the world 
must wait, for further developments. 



LX. 

A PERILOUS JOURNEY. 

1H AVE referred in another place to the prevalence of cholera 
in the West during my residence in St. Louis. It is a ter- 
rible scourge, not less to be dreaded, when it prevails epidem- 
ically, than yellow fever. In the summer of 1850 the cholera 
quite abounded in the city of St. Louis, though it could hardly 
be accounted an epidemic. Many of the citizens left as usual 
for their various summer retreats. Mrs. Jeter, accompanied 
by friends, visited her relatives in Virginia. My purpose was 
to remain at my post during the summer, but my health be- 
came much impaired. I was seized with symptoms of cholera, 
and, if I did not have it in a mild form, I was sorely threatened 
with it. It was deemed prudent that I should leave the city 
for the restoration of my health, and I concluded to follow my 
wife to Virginia. 

At that time the usual travel between the East and the West 
was by steamers on the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, and by 
stages connecting with them. My trip from St. Louis to Cin- 
cinnati by steamer was devoid of interest. On reaching the 
latter city, where I purposed to spend the Lord's-day, I found 
that cholera was prevailing to an alarming extent. On Mon- 
day the steamer to Pittsburg was crowded with passengers, 
many of them fleeing from the plague, and some of them with 
only the remnants of their households. Our trip up the river 
was attended with much anxiety, but with no loss of life. 

The passengers from Virginia landed at Guyandotte early in 
the morning, to learn that the stage by which they hoped to 
be conveyed eastward had been gone about half an hour. 
There were seven travellers for this route, and it was proposed 
to hire an extra stage to carry them on their journey. The 
agent, however, required the full price for nine seats, and, the 
majority of the passengers refusing to bear their proportionate 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 301 

share of the additional expense, the scheme was abandoned. 
I, with others, yielded to the necessity of spending the day in 
Guyandotte, little dreaming what would befall us. 

A young man whom I had known in Virginia, an agent of the 
stage line, accompanied us in the steamer from Cincinnati. He 
greatly dreaded an attack of cholera, and was fleeing from it. 
Late in the afternoon I saw him sitting under the shade of a 
tree in the yard of the hotel, wrapped in a thick overcoat, 
though the weather was very warm. On inquiry I found that 
he had been vomiting for some time, and was fast sinking into 
that cold, clammy, pulseless condition known as collapse, which 
usually soon ended in dissolution. He was unwilling to go 
alone into his room, as he was timid, and taking his bed seemed 
to him as yielding to the disease. At my earnest request, he 
retired to his room and called for medical aid. 

About the same time a lady who resided in Staunton, a sister 
of Judge Baldwin, one of the most distinguished citizens of the 
State, was prostrated with the same disease. It had not pre- 
viously prevailed in Guyandotte. It is not possible to describe 
the panic which was excited when it became known that two 
cases of cholera had occurred at the hotel, in the centre of the 
town. It is not strange that the alarm should have been great. 
The cholera was sudden in its attacks, rapid in its progress, 
and fearful in its results. Towns had been depopulated by it, 
and medical skill was of little avail in its treatment. No plague 
was ever more fierce and desolating than this. 

Whatever might be the intensity of the panic or the ravages 
of the disease, I was shut up to the necessity of remaining in 
Guyandotte till the departure of the stage the next morning. 
I yielded to the necessity as best I could, but it was certainly 
to me the most trying and anxious night that I have passed, 
excepting, possibly, that on which I was tossed on the billows 
of the Atlantic on my return from Florida, in constant dread of 
shipwreck. 

I had unmistakable symptoms of cholera. I knew that quiet 
and sleep were necessary for me, and possibly essential for the 
preservation of my life, but for me there was neither sleep nor 



302 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

rest. My room was midway between those of the sufferings 
cholera patients. To the one room or the other I was con- 
stantly called to offer such consolations as I could to the sick, 
and to engage in prayer that their lives might be spared or that 
they might be prepared for their end. 

The Staunton lady was a Presbyterian, and as composed and 
hopeful as under such circumstances might have been expected ; 
but her faith was put to a severe trial. Far from home and, 
with the exception of a friend or two, from those whom she 
loved and by whom she was loved, she was suddenly attacked 
by the fellest of diseases, and certainly had great need of strong 
faith and of abundant grace. 

The case of the young man was one of the most touching 
which has fallen under my notice. He was of respectable and 
pious connections. He early made a profession of religion and 
was baptized. Engaged in a business which withdrew him 
from his religious privileges and led him into worldly associa- 
tions, he neglected his solemn duties, and if he did not make 
shipwreck of his faith he chilled his piety, obscured his hope, 
and covered his end with gloom. Handing to me his purse 
and watch, to be preserved for his kindred, he said, with a 
solemnity and emphasis which I can never forget, "Oh, did I 
ever think that I should die such a death as this !" Having 
taken leave of me, he deliberately turned over in his bed to die. 
The sunken features, the cadaverous complexion, and the cold 
and clammy perspiration furnished decisive proof that his 
gloomy anticipations were not delusive. 

At length the morning came, and never was its light more 
welcome to an anxious soul than it was to me. I had not, as I 
now remember, slept a moment during the night. I had been 
in constant apprehension of an attack of cholera, and it sprang, 
not from an excited imagination, but from symptoms which I 
knew to be premonitory of the disease. It was a serious mat- 
ter to be arrested by cholera under any circumstances, but I 
knew that if I were seized with it in Guyandotte, in that hour 
of alarm, I could hope for no attentions beyond the visit of a 
physician and the occasional calls of a servant. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 303 

At early dawn I was on the stage for Charleston, Kanawha. 
Of the seven travellers who missed the stage on the previous 
morning, and of several others who were waiting for a passage, 
only two of us left that city. The rest had not all been attacked 
by cholera, but had all been arrested in their journey by the 
malady in their own persons or in the persons of those with 
whom they were associated. Soon after I left the town I fell 
asleep, and did not awake until I reached the breakfasting 
house. I was greatly refreshed by my slumber. No ship- 
wrecked mariner ever reached land with greater joy than I ex- 
perienced when I perceived that I had escaped the threatening 
and direful plague, and was refreshed and invigorated by the 
bracing country air. A travel of a day or two brought me to 
the White Sulphur Springs, where the sight of friends and the 
use of the healing water banished the symptoms of cholera and 
made me in a measure forget the troubles of my journey. 

The precise results of the outbreak of the cholera in Guyan- 
dotte I never learned. The time antedated telegraphs, rail- 
roads, and the rapid diffusion of news. The two patients to 
whom I have referred died shortly after I left the village. I 
have reason to suppose that the ravages of the disease were 
scarcely commensurate with the intensity of the panic. 

. To me the trial was profitable as well as painful. Often in the 
course of my ministry I have had occasion to refer to the sor- 
rowful exclamation of the dying young man : ' ' Oh ! did I ever 
think that I should die such a death as this ! ' ' Thousands 
have had cause to utter the same sad lament. Well would it 
be for the young, and the old, too, if they should ever live as 
they would wish to die. They know not, and they cannot 
know, when they will be called to leave the world ; but when 
the summons comes,' prepared or unprepared, they must obey it. 



LXL 
FASHIONS. 

FASHION is the prevailing mode of dress and ornament. 
All classes of people have their fashions. They may be 
simple or artificial, economical or expensive, modest or indeli- 
cate, but they invariably indicate the taste of the people among 
whom they prevail. American fashions are almost incessantly 
changing. Could accurate pictures have been taken of all 
which have been current since my boyhood, they would furnish 
a gallery worth seeing. It should be remembered that nearly 
half my life was passed in the country, where fashions are 
usually followed at a distance, and with many additions and 
subtractions. 

My first recollection of fashion is that old men, especially 
those of the better class, wore short "breeches," as they were 
called, with knee-buckles, and long stockings, closely fitting 
the legs. Young men and old men, not governed by fashion, 
wore pantaloons or breeches with legs descending to the ankles. 
In a short while pantaloons supplanted breeches, except in rare 
cases of old or eccentric men. Pantaloons were worn mostly 
without suspenders, but gradually their convenience and com- 
fort brought them into general use. Pantaloons, made at first 
to fit the limbs, soon began to be cut according to the arbitrary 
dictates of fashion. At one time the legs were of enormous 
size — large enough for mill-bags — and at another they were 
made of elastic stuff and fitted the limbs as closely as the skin. 
Boots underwent changes quite as striking as did pantaloons. 
When I was a boy old men wore fair-top boots. They were 
long enough to reach the knee, with a broad belt of smooth 
leather, of its natural color, around the top, and the remainder 
polished with blacking. They were pressed down and rumpled 
about the legs so as to expose to view a considerable portion 
of the stocking between the upper edge of the boot and the 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 305 

knee-buckle. The dandies wore boots of a different style. 
Their legs were stiff, reaching rather more than half way to 
the knee, cut at the top and in front in the- form of a heart, 
with a black silk tassel suspended from the lowest point of the 
indentation. They were called ' ' suarrow boots ' ' — why I know 
not, nor am I sure that my spelling of them is correct. Boots 
in my earlier days were rather a mark of gentility, but they 
soon became common, and were worn alike by gentlemen and 
by wagoners, at first over and afterwards under the legs of pan- 
taloons. Coats have undergone a great variety of changes 
within the period of my memory. They have been made with 
rolling and standing collars, and with long tails, short tails, wide 
tails, narrow tails, and some without tails. The Methodists all 
wore round -breasted coats, such as were fashionable in the days 
of the Wesleys. Even Methodist boys had coats of this style. 
Quite likely a Methodist would have been expelled from the 
society if he had appeared publicly in a fashionably-cut coat. 
It is certain that he would have been censured and reproved 
for his sinful conformity to the world. For many years the 
Methodists firmly stood their ground against all changes of 
fashion. At length, however, the round-breasted was gradu- 
ally succeeded by the frock coat among them. It was recom- 
mended by its simplicity and comfort, and, perhaps, forty or 
fifty years ago it became as rare to see a round-breasted coat 
as a few years previous it had been to notice a frock coat. The 
high-crowned hat, the mark and the absurdity of civilization, 
has maintained its place through all the mutations of fashion. 
Its brim has been sometimes wide and sometimes narrow ; its 
color has changed from black to brown, from brown to white, 
and from white to black again ; its form has frequently varied 
from the high to the low crown, sometimes narrowing and 
again widening towards the top, and it has been manufactured 
of wood, straw, and leather, and of wool, cotton, and fur ; but 
still the stove-pipe crown rules Christendom. Shirts have 
played no inconsiderable part in the world of fashion. Old 
men and dandies were adorned with ruffled shirts sixty years 
ago. Most men had their shirt bosoms plain or pleated, and 



306 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

wore them concealed, or more or less exposed, according to 
the prevailing custom, or their various tastes and fancies. Col- 
lars have changed, I know not how often, from wide to narrow, 
and from standing to turning. Collars detached from the shirts 
were not used until about the year 1826, and they did not be- 
come common without delay and considerable opposition. 

Whether it is from instinct or training that women are pecu- 
liarly devoted to fashion I know not. The fact is unquestion- 
able. All the cautions in the Scriptures against fondness for 
dress and costly ornaments are addressed to the gentler sex. 
My observations have shown that the warnings have not lost 
their appropriateness. In my early years women's attire, 
within the range of my observation, was exceedingly simple. 
Five or six yards of calico or cambric were deemed an ample 
pattern for the dress of a lady of ordinary proportions. It was 
made with gores, so as to admit of due expansion in walking. 
It was perfectly plain in its style, and free from ruffles, furbe- 
lows, and pleats. The bonnet of those days was designed to 
cover the head and to protect the face from the rays of the sun, 
and it was well adapted to its purposes. It was sparingly sup- 
plied with bows and ribbons. All the other garments and 
adornments of the sex were in harmony with these chief arti- 
cles of apparel. The Methodist ladies of the time contributed 
much to restrain the extravagances of fashion. They had a 
style of dress peculiar to themselves. It was simple, neat, con- 
venient, and, as I then thought and still think, very handsome. 
For some years they maintained their style with unflinching 
simplicity, but the change of taste and tide of fashion gradually 
weakened their principles and swept away their peculiarities of 
dress. It came to pass that Methodist women could not be 
distinguished by their vestments from other people. 

The first manifest departure from the old fashions was a dress 
short in front and long" behind. It greatly offended the com- 
mon taste, but it was fashionable, and from the law of fashion 
there was no appeal. The garment was modified by the vary- 
ing tastes. of its wearers, but those who took the lead in fashion 
wore it half way to the knees before and trailing in the dust 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 307 

behind, but it was far from rivalling in length and gorgeous- 
ness the train of a modern belle. 

While I was quite young the practice of tight lacing became 
common. It was deemed necessary not only to exhibit the 
bust, but by compression to give it a graceful form. Of all the 
fashions that I have ever known this was carried to the most 
ridiculous excess. A small waist was deemed a mark of refine- 
ment and essential to beauty. To secure this mark of perfec- 
tion young ladies laced themselves with strong cords attached 
to bed-posts, on which they bore the full weight of their bodies r 
or had the service performed by muscular waiting maids, who 
exerted their utmost strength to compress the waists of their 
young mistresses. I cannot vouch for the correctness of the 
statement, but I often heard it' affirmed that some young women 
caused their breast bones to be lapped by their tight lacing. I 
remember well seeing a girl who was so severely laced that an 
ornament worn on her breast moved up and down as she 
breathed, because her body had no room for expansion. In 
those days obesity was held in abhorrence. Young ladies who 
had a tendency to corpulence sought to aid the effect of lacing 
by the most abstemious diet and a free use of vinegar. Some 
of them, naturally fine-looking, reduced themselves by these 
processes to a ghostly appearance. Nor was this all, nor the 
worst. According to the testimony of physicians, many women 
of fine constitutions and fair promise of long life brought them- 
selves to early graves, and others rendered themselves invalids 
and sufferers for life, by following an arbitrary and senseless 
fashion. It long maintained its hold on society, but finally 
disappeared, leaving everybody amazed that it should ever 
have prevailed. 

In my boyhood the aged people used to tell of the days 
when hoops were in fashion as an article of dress. In old pic- 
tures the wondering youth had an opportunity of seeing how 
their grandmothers and great-grandmothers appeared when 
they were encompassed by these badges of gentility. The 
fashion seemed extremely ridiculous. It was supposed that a 
mode of dress so grotesque and inconvenient could never make 



308 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

its appearance again. It was the relic of a barbarous age that 
could not be thought of without amusement. It is as true of 
fashion as of history that it constantly repeats itself. Contrary 
to all expectation and all reasoning, the hoop-dress came again 
into fashion. At first the hoops were small, giving to the dress 
a graceful expansion. Gradually they were enlarged to enor- 
mous proportions. A lady fashionably dressed could not enter 
a door of ordinary size without tilting her hoops. In full dress 
she could not ride in a carriage with her escort. Her hoops, 
in their highest style, would have made no inconvenient tent 
for a soldier. The singularness of the dress was lost sight of 
in its commonness. Had it come suddenly into use in its full 
proportions, the boys would have hooted it on the streets ; but 
it was introduced so stealthily that it created no surprise and 
afforded no amusement. It departed as it came, slowly and 
imperceptibly, leaving not a trace behind it. It must certainly 
be accounted one of the freaks of feminine fancy. Small hoops, 
to give the dress the needed fullness, may be convenient and 
graceful, but the expanded hoops, which turned gentlemen 
from the sidewalks and required for their wearers double seats 
in the church and in the concert-room, were surely commended 
neither by convenience nor good taste. 

In nothing have females displayed greater ingenuity than in 
the manufacture of their bonnets. In size, form, material, 
color, and adornments, and for all the purposes of comfort and 
display, they have undergone perpetual changes. It would 
seem scarcely possible that they should admit of any new 
modification. We pass by many forms of this needed and 
beautiful article of woman's apparel to notice the "navarino" 
bonnet, because ' ( thereby hangs a tale. ' ' We know not whence 
came the name. It was derived probably from the place where 
it was first manufactured. It was made of paper, handsomely 
colored and printed, and of most becoming form. It came 
into general use nearly fifty years ago. When it was in its 
highest glory a camp -meeting was held in the neighborhood 
of Richmond. The ladies of the city and vicinity appeared in 
great numbers at the meeting adorned with their navarinoes. 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 309 

There came up a rain which, for its profusion, has scarcely been 
exceeded since the Noachian flood. The ladies were com- 
pelled, through torrents of rain and overflowing streams, to 
return to their homes. In spite of umbrellas, carriages, and 
shawls the navarinoes yielded to the influence of the penetrating 
rain and the all-pervading dampness. At first they became 
soft, then lost their graceful form, and finally dropped to pieces. 
All along the roads leading from the encampment the debris 
of the bonnets were scattered, and the ladies reached their 
homes with their heads as little protected as they are by the 
modern adornment called a bonnet, and worn on the roll of 
hair affixed to the back of the head. Navarinoes soon went 
out of fashion in Richmond and its vicinity. 

Time would fail us, if memory did not, to tell of the ceaseless 
changes in form, in texture, in color, in combination, through 
which all the articles of woman's wardrobe have been passing 
from the time of my earliest recollection down to the present 
day. I must not, however, overlook a fashion pertaining to 
female manners. Nearly fifty years ago there prevailed among 
ladies of the higher classes a fashion called the ' ' Grecian bend. ' ' 
It was a certain stoop or carriage of the body supposed to be 
graceful, and according to the taste and refinement of the 
Greeks. This was soon followed by the "agony" — I do not 
remember its descriptive epithet — an artificial wriggling of the 
person, deemed by those who practiced it the very perfection 
of feminine cultivation and art. These freaks of fashion were 
never universal, but were earnestly adopted by ladies who had 
leisure and were ambitious to place themselves among the lead- 
ers of fashion. These customs perhaps belong rather to the 
class of affectations than of fashions, but whatever they may 
be called, they were a singular development of human vanity, 
bringing impressively to mind the stanza of Burns : 

" O wad some power the giftie gie us 
To see ourselves as others see us ! 
It wad frae monie a blunder free us, 

And foolish notion ; 
What airs in dress and gait wad lea'e us, 

And e'en devotion ! " 



LXII. 

CHANGES FOR THE BETTER. 

MY observations have extended through a period of more 
than sixty years. In that time great changes have 
occurred in the condition of the country — material, financial, 
intellectual, social, moral, and religious. I shall limit my re- 
marks chiefly to the religious changes. Let it be remembered 
that my observations were commenced in a plain rural district, 
and might have been very different had they been made in 
other portions of the country. 

A marked change has taken place in the ministry of all reli- 
gious denominations, within the period of my recollection, and 
the change has been a decided improvement. To the change 
in the Baptist ministry my remarks will have special reference. 
It does not include an increase of piety. The fathers were as 
sincere, earnest, devout, and faithful as are the ministers of the 
present day. There was more asceticism in the piety of former 
times, as there is more frivolity in that of the present day. 
With all their austerity, the fathers would drink whiskey, and 
never once suspected that the indulgence was wrong or dan- 
gerous. They would, however, have been horrified at such a 
conformity to the world as is now common among ministers in 
spirit, dress, and manners. In former times drunkenness would 
have been more readily excused than the playing of such a 
game as croquet. The fathers were sound in the faith, but 
their knowledge and instruction were limited to a few funda- 
mental points, on which they strenuously insisted. Their 
preaching was sadly deficient in variety and in its adaptation 
to edify and stimulate their hearers. It is not wonderful that 
their ministry should have been defective. Most of them had 
no book but the common version of the Bible, and had never 
heard of a concordance, and then religious newspapers had not 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 311 

begun their important career. The ministry of the present day 
is far more intelligent than was that of former times. It is not 
strange that it should be.* Schools, colleges, and professors, 
books, tracts, and newspapers, have been multiplied and 
brought within the reach of aspirants after knowledge. Most 
ministers are educated more or less thoroughly, and the unedu- 
cated have means of intellectual improvement far beyond those 
enjoyed in former times. Then it was no uncommon thing to 
hear sermons in which the preacher boasted that he was not 
dependent for his discourse on human "larnin," and who, by 
setting at naught all the rules of grammar, logic, and Scripture 
exegesis, proved that his boast was not vain. Now it is rare, 
in the city or in the country, for preachers, educated or uned- 
ucated, to deliver a sermon which in style, arrangement, and 
thought is not respectable. Some of our young ministers just 
from the seminary would have been deemed by many in the 
old times unfit to preach the gospel on account of their pro- 
found and varied learning — an opinion from which their teach- 
ers would be likely to dissent. 

The improvement in the ministry has doubtless been largely 
owing to the better provision made for their support. Sixty 
years ago, it may be safely affirmed that, among all the Baptist 
ministers of Virginia, not one received an adequate or even a 
stinted support. They, like other men, were engaged in secu- 
lar pursuits — agricultural, mechanical, mercantile, or profes- 
sional — for the support of themselves and their families. Some 
of them had means, arid could devote their time to the min- 
istry. Others had genius, energy, industry, and a 'burning 
zeal, which, in spite of their disadvantages, made them mighty 
in winning souls for Christ. It is easy, however, to perceive 
how the average qualifications of ministers, under such circum- 
stances, would be meagre and their sermons poor. Ministers 
supported in their work would be greatly responsible if they 
did not exceed in attainments and efficiency those who are 
compelled to blend their ministry with secular avocations. 
Churches must understand that if they desire to have pastors 
well equipped for their service they must be freed from worldly 



312 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

cares, that, according to the apostolic exhortation, they may 
give themselves ' ' wholly to the ministry. ' ' Our churches have 
made considerable progress in learning the divine rule that 
' ' they who preach the gospel should live of the gospel ' ' ; but 
there is still much for them to learn — at least to practice — in 
that direction. 

A favorable change has been made in my days in the arrange- 
ments for religious worship. In my boyhood I did not know of 
a single neat and comfortable house of worship of any denom- 
ination. I do not remember seeing a brick house of worship 
in the country until about the time I commenced my ministry. 
Some of the "meeting-houses," as they were then universally 
called, were framed buildings, many of them unplastered, and 
most of them unpainted. No inconsiderable portion of them 
were built of logs. The house in which I received most of my 
early religious instruction was reared of logs, neither hewed 
nor barked, put together in a most unworkmanlike manner. 
It was never chinked, and a stout dog might have passed 
through its open cracks. The furniture of these buildings 
corresponded with their exterior appearance. They were sup- 
plied with narrow, low benches, without backs. Glass windows 
and stoves were rare, and curtains and cushions were quite un- 
known. Many of the ' ' meeting-houses ' ' would have been very 
uncomfortable stables for horses and mules. 

Thirty or forty years ago the Baptists of Virginia were seized 
with quite a commendable zeal for the construction of good 
meeting-houses. Almost every church felt the necessity of 
improving its place of worship. All over the State houses for 
religious services were erected, some of wood and some of 
brick — spacious, convenient, and comfortable. They had not 
much to boast on the score of taste, but they were a great im- 
provement over the shabby structures of previous times, and 
answered well the purposes of those for whose convenience and 
benefit they were erected. Some of them were destroyed by 
the fortunes, or, rather, the folly and wickedness of war, and 
many of them, through the stringency of the times, have suf- 
fered sadly for lack of paint and needed repairs ; but still the 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 313 

quality and condition of our houses of worship mark a great 
and favorable change. 

There has been a striking improvement in the order of reli- 
gious assemblies within the period of my memory. In some 
country places the disorder during public worship was shock- 
ing. Many persons went to the house of God, not to render' 
homage to him, or to be instructed in his Word, but to amuse 
themselves by talking and laughing. They would go in or out 
of the place of worship according to their pleasure, and take 
pains to attract attention from the preaching of the gospel. 
Reproof did not restrain, but in many cases augmented the 
disorder. Nor was this misconduct limited to the lower and 
more degraded classes of society, but in many instances per- 
sons who claimed to be gentlemen were guilty of this rudeness, 
and really supposed that they showed their independence and 
high breeding by scorning reproofs from the pulpit. This dis- 
order did not prevail in all places, nor in the same place in the 
same degree, at all times. I can only say that within the range 
of my early observation, and during the first few years of my 
ministry, there was much and most reprehensible disorder in 
many religious meetings. In this respect a very important 
change has taken place. In many congregations there may 
still be confusion from inconsiderateness and unwisely tolerated 
customs, but there are few neighborhoods in which an intelli- 
gent and dignified preacher would not receive respectful atten- 
tion, or if there should be disturbers of the service, they would 
incur general and severe condemnation. 

The piety of the present day is more practical than was that 
of the fathers. They laid great stress on soundness in doctrine. 
They were not to be blamed for this, but for failing to give due 
weight to other matters. Faith with them was too much a 
speculation. If a man was sound in the faith, he would not 
be disturbed if he were sound asleep. Preaching was largely 
polemic ; and nothing was expected of the hearers but to ac- 
cept what was taught. It was not altogether, but greatly, a 
system of faith without works, or, at least, with few. They 
believed, and were ready to fight for, "the five points," but 



314 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

they contributed nothing for the support of their pastors, rarely 
attended prayer-meetings, gave nothing systematically for the 
poor, and of missions and Sunday-schools they had never 
heard. Their piety made the very slightest demand on their 
time, their purses, or their activities. Piety is now, much more 
than it was, a thing of life, and labor, and sacrifice among 
Christians. It lays a tax on the brain, the hand, and the purse. 
There is far more activity among Christians than there was 
sixty years ago. In missions, in Sunday-schools, in efforts for 
promoting education, and in the various organized modes of 
mitigating human misery and of increasing human virtue and 
happiness, their minds, their hearts, their hands, find constant 
if not sweet employment. Little is done compared with what 
might be and ought to be done, but still much in contrast with 
what was done or attempted to be done in former years. 

The favorable changes made in our denomination in the last 
half century may well inspire us with gratitude to God and 
hope for the future. In number, intelligence, resources, and 
influence it has made great and gratifying progress. It has 
in itself the elements of vast and permanent prosperity. Our 
churches, however, can flourish only by piety and the activities 
to which it gives birth. Composed exclusively of a regenerate 
membership — at least, in profession — they can be sustained and 
increased only by earnest, believing efforts for the conversion 
of sinners. Should they become cold, formal, worldly, they 
may have a name that they live, but they will be dead. Should 
their zeal keep pace with their progress, a bright future is be- 
fore them. If under so many disadvantages in the past their 
success was so satisfactory, what grand results may we not 
reasonably anticipate from their union, activity, and earnest 
prayers in the future ? 



LXIII. 

CHANGES FOR THE WORSE. 

EVERY change of condition brings to churches, as well as 
to individuals, trials and perils. Prosperity has its evils as 
well as adversity. It is not reasonable to suppose that the 
Baptist denomination could have enjoyed uninterrupted pros- 
perity for more than half a century without suffering evils. I 
propose to point out some unfavorable changes which it has 
undergone. 

I have already noticed the marked improvement in the Bap- 
tist ministry, but it has been attended with some deductions. 
There is much more knowledge and good taste in the pulpit 
than there was in former years, but as it has gained in light 
and refinement, it has lost in unction and pathos. It imparts 
more instruction, but produces less impression. It may have 
more to do with the understanding and the conscience, but it 
has less power over the emotions and passions. There are no 
ministers East, West, North, or South, excepting, perhaps, a 
few evangelists, who so enchain, impress, and move their audi- 
ences as did Broaddus and Kerr. Nor was the power to affect 
their audiences confined to these masters of human hearts. 
The ability to move their hearers to tears was not uncommon 
among the old preachers. Formerly it was quite usual to see 
what is now rarely noticed — a whole congregation melted into 
tears. 

This effect of the ministry of the fathers may be traced to 
two causes. First, they aimed directly to excite the feelings of 
their hearers. They thought that they had accomplished noth- 
ing if they drew no tears. Of course they sought by the themes 
they discussed and the tales they told, as well as by the tones 
of their voice and the vehemence of their manner, to impress 
and melt their congregations. I And, next, their hearers were 
prepared and anxious to receive the proposed impression. 



316 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

They were mostly a plain people, of little mental culture, and 
easily excited. When preachers and people were aiming at 
the same result, it is not strange that it should have been 
reached. Account for it as we may, it is certain that formerly 
preaching was addressed more to the heart and less to the 
head, and now it is addressed more to the head and less to the 
heart. Of course, it should be directed, in proper measure, 
both to the head and heart — both to man's intellectual and 
emotional nature. What I notice is, that while the ministry- 
has gained in knowledge it has declined in pathos. There 
should not be less, but still more knowledge in. the pulpit, but 
if possible — and possible it is — it should be secured without 
any diminution of that tenderness of feeling and that fervency 
of zeal which captivate the heart — a sensibility derived from 
pious meditation and communion with God — a sacred unction 
with which Paul taught the Ephesians, by the space of three 
years, "night and day with tears." 

There is now in the worship, especially of city churches, 
more formality and less fervency than there was in former 
times. This change is particularly observable in singing. Sixty 
years ago this was a pleasing and popular part of Christian 
worship. Almost everybody could sing, and many could set 
and lead the music. The tunes used w r ere plain, but solemn 
and impressive, and the songs and hymns were evangelical, if 
they were not refined poetry. While congregations were as- 
sembling, devout persons would set tunes, and all would unite 
in singing songs. Perhaps half a dozen hymns would be sung 
before the commencement of the pulpit services. In this sing- 
ing there was perfect freedom. Any one, man or woman, 
might select a song and set a tune, with the assurance that all 
present would unite in the singing. In the public worship the 
minister lined out the hymn, and the whole congregation joined 
in the music. At the close of the sermon, it was not unusual 
for several songs appropriate to the discourse or the occasion 
to be sung with earnestness and delight. 

Now a great change has taken place. Music is conducted 
chiefly by choirs. These are composed largely of the young 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 317 

and volatile, and led by choristers, some of whom are not even 
professors of religion. The tendency is, more and more, to 
make church music a matter of taste and amusement rather 
than of devotion. The aim is, in many cases, to exalt the 
choir rather than the Redeemer, and the congregation are ex- 
pected simply to hear and praise the music. The singing is an 
exhibition, not religious worship. Whether music has a ten- 
dency to make those who practice it irritable and perverse, I 
cannot say, but certainly, within the range of my knowledge, 
no class of persons is so frequently disturbed by jealousies, 
feuds, and incurable divisions as are church choirs. There are 
few churches which have not been annoyed by the bad temper 
and unpleasant jarring of their choirs. Meanwhile, church 
music, in what is commonly deemed its highest excellence, has 
lost its power to move the hearts and consciences of congrega- 
tions. Many listen to it, and are pleased with it, as a matter 
of taste, but even in them it excites no devotional feelings, calls 
for no penitential tears, and awakens no holy desire, while the 
masses hear it with as much unconcern and with as little profit 
as they would the pattering of rain. 

Baptists of the present day are better informed on religious 
subjects generally, but they are less carefully indoctrinated than 
were the fathers. We have books, magazines, newspapers more 
than we can read, and we gather a large amount of miscella- 
neous information— historical, biographical, statistical, and re- 
ligious — but only slight attention is paid to the vital truths of 
Christianity. Few church members are capable of defending 
them by clear scriptural arguments. The fathers were men of 
one book — the Bible. They had little else to read, and they 
read it constantly and carefully. We remember an old brother 
in our youth who, when any doubtful question arose concern- 
ing divine truth, would always say: "Run the Scripter!" 
The language was unintelligible to persons unacquainted with 
his custom. He possessed, what was then rare, a pretty full 
Concordance of the Scriptures, and by running "the Scrip- 
ter ' ' he meant simply examining the questionable point by the 
aid of the Concordance. He would turn from verse to verse, 



318 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

as guided by it, until he reached a satisfactory conclusion. If 
few had his Concordance to guide their researches, most united 
with him in reverence for the Bible, and in constant and earnest 
endeavors to understand it. To them its teaching was an end 
of all controversy. They believed nothing and practiced noth- 
ing for which they did not suppose they had a " Thus saith the 
Lord," and, having that, they cared little for the teaching of 
history or the speculations of theologians. 

In nothing has there been so striking a change among Bap- 
tists, within the range of my observation, as in religious con- 
versation. We have now much talk on topics more or less 
closely connected with religion. We hear much of plans for 
usefulness, the doings of conventions, the merit of preachers, 
the qualities of books, the progress of churches, and the like, 
but we rarely hear a conversation on personal piety. That was 
the almost universal topic among our fathers. Wherever and 
whenever they met they conversed of their experiences — the 
dealings of God with their souls. Children would listen with 
great interest to the accounts they gave* of their conversion, 
their doubts and fears, their joys and hopes, and their conflicts 
with temptation. The young were strongly impressed with 
the reality and importance of religion by these unstudied but 
very sincere conversations, which were not unfrequently ac- 
companied by tears. 

In this matter it would be well for the churches to return to 
the ways of the fathers. Religious experience is a most suit- 
able and appropriate theme of conversation. An experience 
every Christian must have. He could not have passed from 
death unto life without conviction of sin, painful conflicts with 
temptation, godly sorrow, earnest longings, fervent prayers, 
trust in Christ, joyful hope, and many alternations of feeling. 
He cannot have been long in the Christian life without much 
experience of his own weakness and wants, and of the mercy 
and faithfulness of his Redeemer. Most worthy themes of con- 
versation are these. They have employed the tongues of the 
pious in all ages. "Come and hear, all ye that fear God," 
said the devout psalmist ; "I will declare what he hath done 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 319 

for my soul." The Psalms are little more than the record of 
God's gracious dealings with his servants. The apostle Paul 
repeatedly, in his sermons and in his epistles, referred to his 
wonderful experience — an experience attended with miraculous 
events, but in all its essential points the same as that of other 
believers. The Pilgrim's Progress, one of the most popular of 
uninspired books, is made up of religious experience, veiled 
and made attractive under an allegorical garb. Surely no 
argument can be needed to convince spiritually-minded per- 
sons of the propriety and profitableness of experimental con- 
versation. It is desirable that among Christians there should 
be less frivolous and foolish jesting, and a more strict regard 
to the apostolic exhortation : ' ' Let your speech be always with 
grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to 
answer every man." 



LXIV. 

THE ESTIMATE OF LIFE. 

LIFE in prospect differs widely from life in the retrospect. 
To the young it appears in the roseate hues of hope. To- 
morrow, they are assured, will be as to-day — but more abun- 
dant and joyous. They live in the future, and health, strength, 
wealth, fame, and happiness are among its certain possessions. 
To them life is a bright, delusive dream. 

The young have their troubles. Disappointment, sickness, 
pain, bereavements, wants, and nameless sorrows may overtake 
them and momentarily dissipate their delusions, but their trou- 
bles are short-lived. They are soon forgotten and lost in the 
recovery of their blessings and in the anticipation of better 
times. Hard indeed must be the lot which crushes the spirits 
and extinguishes the hopes of the young. 

Fortunate it is that troubles fall lightly on their hearts. Let 
them enjoy life ; they will have ample time, if their days are pro- 
longed, to endure afflictions. I was once ascending the Ohio 
river in a steamer. A heart-smitten widow was on board who 
had just buried her husband in Cincinnati, and was- fleeing with 
her children from the cholera, which was raging as an epidemic. 
She had two little daughters, bright and cheerful, old enough, 
indeed, to know that they had lost their father, but too young 
and volatile to be long affected by their bereavement. Amid 
the scenes and excitements of the voyage the sprightly girls 
forgot their sorrows and gave themselves up to the pleasures 
of the occasion. The poor mother seemed almost as much 
grieved by the untimely frivolity of her children as by the sud- 
den death of her husband. She tried by every art to repress 
their exuberant joy, and impart to them her own gloom and 
sorrow, but in vain. Nature would assert its control. Stranger 
as I was, I ventured to address words of consolation to the af- 
flicted widow. It was cause for gratitude rather than grief that 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 321 

her young and tender children did not fully share in her sor- 
rows. It was better that they should enjoy life while they 
might, as, in all probability, their days of trouble would come, 
and not be few. With thoughts like these her crushed heart 
seemed soothed. 

To the old, life is not a dream, but a reality. They contem- 
plate it, not in the bright hues of fancy, but in the sober or even 
dark garb of experience. How different is life from the early 
anticipation of it. It was poetically described by the patriarch 
of Uz, four thousand years ago : ' ' Man that is born of a woman 
is of few days and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, 
and is cut down ; he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth 
not." 

Life is short. It does not seem so to the young. When I 
was a boy my grandfather was a white-headed septuaginarian. 
It appeared to me to be impossible that I should ever attain to 
his age. A small eternity seemed to intervene between his age 
and mine. I am now just as old as he was at the time of his 
death ; and how swiftly have my days passed by ! Life in the 
retrospect always appears brief. * ' The days of the years of my 
pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years," said the patriarch 
Jacob ; ''few and evil have the days of my life been." Moses, 
the man of God, harped on the same string: "The days of 
our years are three-score years and ten ; and if by reason of 
strength they be four-score years, yet is their strength labor 
and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. ' ' How 
truthfully is the life of man pictured by the inspired psalmist : 
"As for man, his days are as grass : as a flower of the field, so 
he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone." 
Some improvements have been made in the hygienic and heal- 
ing arts, but still life, under the most favored circumstances, is 
brief and uncertain. No strength of constitution, no prudence, 
and no medical skill can extend it much beyond its usual limit. 

Life is not only short, but "full of trouble." This language 
is strong, but it is confirmed by the experience of every person 
who has reached the age of three-score years and ten. Toils, 
vexations, disappointments, pains, losses, wants, and griefs for 



322 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

which human ingenuity has scarcely found a name enter largely 
into the history of every life. Nor are these all, nor the worst 
of its evils. Temptation, sin in innumerable forms, guilt, re- 
morse, godly sorrow, and ceaseless conflicts with the world, the 
flesh, and the devil "run through the rounds of three-score 
years and ten." Domestic relations, the source of man's high- 
est enjoyments, are often the cause of his sorest trials. He 
shares in the afflictions of those whom he loves. The sharpest 
sorrows of parents are frequently the result of the waywardness, 
folly, vice, and misery of their children. National calamities — 
derangement of trade, sectional and party strife, riots, and war 
with its fearful desolations — cast their shadows over many a 
household, and add greatly to the bitterness of individual expe- 
rience. All the elements of nature seem to be at war with man, 
and commissioned to aggravate his misery. Fire burns his 
hard-earned property and turns him out a beggar on the world. 
The air that he breathes may be fraught with death and spread 
a wasting epidemic over the land. Water, one of Heaven's best 
gifts, may overflow the lands, wasting the products of man's 
toil, and leaving desolation, want, and sickness in its track. 
Heat and cold, which minister so much to man's comfort, may 
in their turn afflict and ruin him. These evils may in some 
measure be evaded, modified, or even turned to good, by pru- 
dence, piety, and fortitude : but sorrow and suffering, increas- 
ing to the close of life, are man's inevitable lot on earth. 

As man grows older he becomes more profoundly convinced 
of his ignorance. In his youth he hopes to become wise. In 
his maturity he might have been seduced into the delusion that 
he had attained to wisdom. He must, however, be exceed- 
ingly indocile if he does not learn before he reaches the age 
of three-score and ten years that he "knows nothing as he 
ought to know." His highest attainment is to learn that he 
is a fool. He finds thai everything within and around him is 
involved in impenetrable rhystery. Matter, spirit, providence, 
law, sin, redemption, eternity, God, are all familiar terms de- 
signed to conceal his ignorance rather than to express his 
knowledge. 




THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 323 

I have depicted the dark side of human life. It is, however, 
not all disappointment, gloom, and suffering. It has its com- 
forts as well as its distresses, its joys as well as its sorrows, its 
hopes as well as its fears. As there is no life without its trou- 
bles, so, perhaps, there is no life without its enjoyments. There 
is a strange commingling of blessings and afflictions in human 
experience. Often the sorest trials bring the sweetest pleas- 
ures, and the purest delights end in the darkest sorrows. 

Is this all of human life? Was man made merely to eat, 
drink, propagate his species, and perish forever? This is the 
teaching of infidelity, or the cheerless surmise of skepticism. 
If this conjecture is true, then life is a failure — a misfortune — in 
many cases a calamity. If there is nothing but matter, it is a 
pity there ever was any matter. Whether the happiness or 
the misery of life exceeds, philosophy has not been able to de- 
cide. Possibly in some cases happiness, and in other cases 
misery, predominates. One point is pretty certain — few, if 
any, persons desire to live over precisely the lives which they 
have experienced. On this subject I may bear testimony. I 
have been more favored in life than a majority of my fellow- 
beings. Endowed with a vigorous constitution, enjoying a 
large share of health, surrounded by warm friends, engaged in 
congenial employments, having a fair measure of success in my 
labors, as free from afflictions as most of my friends, having a 
supply of the necessaries and comforts of life, with a heart to 
enjoy all my blessings, I have had great cause to be content 
with my lot. Few have enjoyed life more than I have. I can 
truly say, however, that I have no desire to live it over just as 
it has been. If I could carry back to childhood my experi- 
ence and pass through my days more wisely and usefully, I 
should be pleased to do it ; but to retrace my life, with all its 
joys and sorrows, all its follies, mistakes, and sins, I have no 
wish. If life has nothing better than the past, it is more 
desirable not to be than to be. Thfs is the dictate of revela- 
tion, as well as the testimony of experience. "If in this life 
only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miser- 
able." The apostle assumes that all men are miserable, and 



324 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 

affirms that Christians, but for the hope of immortality, would 
be the most miserable of them all. 

If life is a probation, designed to fit man for a higher and 
better state of existence, it rises to sublime importance. That 
it is a probationary state, seems probable from the light of 
nature. That the universe, with its infinite variety of wise 
adapations, did not spring from blind chance or unconscious 
matter, the unbiased human intellect is forced to admit. The 
only alternative is that it was created by a Being of infinite 
wisdom, power, and goodness. Human life is a mystery. For 
what was man created? Not for misery. His manifold bless- 
ings and enjoyments forbid this supposition. Not simply for 
happiness. His various and unavoidable sufferings are at vari- 
ance with this theory. The supposition that life is a trial, a 
discipline, a preparation for another state, solves the mystery. 
With this theory man's conscience and aspirations after im- 
mortality perfectly harmonize. 

What seems probable in the dim light of nature is made 
certain in the clearer light of revelation. Life is but the intro- 
duction to man's permanent existence. Christ has brought 
life and immortality to light through the gospel. ' ' If we be- 
lieve that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which 
sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." If Jesus did not rise 
from the dead, there is no light in the world and no hope for 
man. If Jesus rose from the dead, his resurrection was a part 
of a divine scheme involving the redemption of his disciples. 
Did he rise from the dead? In all the history of the world 
there is no fact so fully authenticated as the resurrection of 
Jesus. The most astute and skeptical men believe and stake 
their interests on facts which have not a tithe of the proof in 
their support which confirms that event. It was testified by 
competent witnesses, who could not have been deceived, and 
who furnished the most illustrious evidences of their sincerity. 
It gained credence, in spite of all the prejudices arrayed against 
it, among Jews and gentiles, and in defiance of the bitter per- 
secutions of priests and rulers, with intelligent people, in the 
very land and in the very age of its occurrence. If Christ was 



THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONG LIFE. 325 

not raised from the dead, the triumph of Christianity in the 
Roman empire was a more wonderful and inexplicable mystery 
than the resurrection of Jesus itself. 

I "believe that Jesus died and rose again." Here I rest my 
hope. This fact sheds light upon the condition and destiny of 
man. It solves a thousand questions otherwise unanswerable. 
It is an unfailing source of consolation amid all the toils, sor- 
rows, and disappointments of life. It imparts significance and 
grandeur to life. It sheds a lustre on the otherwise dark and 
dismal tomb. It lifts the curtain that conceals eternity, and 
gives us glimpses of its ineffable glory and of its unmixed and 
unending felicity. Life is a blessed thing, an inestimable pos- 
session to them that wisely use it. It is the birth of immor- 
tality — the dawn of a day which will be darkened by no clouds, 
disturbed by no storms, and succeeded by no night. Surely 
every Christian may join in the apocalyptic doxology : "Unto 
him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own 
blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his 
Father ; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. 
Amen." 










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